The Place Where No One Weeps
by The Reflecting Bird
Summary: Natalie has lived in the utopian community of the Sunshine Islands for her whole life; however, for better or for worse, a strange turn of events threatens the survival of the society that she knows. Rated T. Serious themes.
1. Chapter 1: Life as I Know it

**Author's Notes: **No, I do not own Harvest Moon or its characters. There you have it. As a forewarning, this story may be intense. I have it rated T for violence, character death, and some suggestive content, but I assure you that the last of the three is the rather minimal and you shouldn't keep from reading the story due to it. Characters may seems a bit OOC, but this a result of the story's main purpose. You'll understand why by the epilogue.

Determining the tense to write the story in was a difficult task. Past tense can kill the suspense while present tense can sound a bit awkward. Essentially, picture the time of writing somewhere shortly after the writing of the chapters. Actions are in past as well as brief thoughts, while lingering ideas and solid places and people are present.

I hope you enjoy the read (if you can call it "enjoyment") and please share your thoughts on the story! Thanks for at least considering reading.

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The Place Where No One Weeps

**Chapter 1- Life as I Know it**

For this account to make much sense to the reader, it is necessary that some understanding of my home is shared.

I never knew life outside of the Sunshine Islands. My grandparents joined the Community at its founding around forty or fifty Mainland Years ago. We don't have a school on the Islands because we believe that compulsory education stifled individuality and creativity. Not surprisingly, I have little knowledge of the rest of the world.

Some twenty Mainland Years ago (I don't know exactly- the calendar wasn't actually used on the islands. I've been given some estimates though), I was born. My father died when I was young, leaving me with my mother and grandfather to raise me. I have an older brother named Elliot, though no one would guess that he is the elder between us. He is one of the easiest people on the island to push around. This is no small statement. According to the islands' principles, everyone is entitled to do what he wants and have his own opinion. Truth isn't a word used often. Thankfully for me, it allows me to be as bossy as I want and not get in a large amount of trouble.

Everyone on the island has his specific job. My family, for example, gathers up produce and resources. We keep records of the items and organize them for shipping off of the islands, a task performed by Vaughn and Kirk. My hair, as well as Elliot and my mother, is dyed pink to mark our assignment on the island. I've never seen my hair any other way, but my friend Pierre told me once that the coloring is far from being natural. He did tell that at least I don't have to wear my hair silver like Vaughn.

Every season, each person is given their "Quarterly Quota". What happened is this. It's our job to have items to sell on the Mainland for profit. As we primarily buy products made on the Islands, the money stays within the community to form a perfect balance of trade. All the earnings of all residents are gathered together in a collective pool called the Fund. This money is given to Regis, who acts as the Head of the Community over the Islands, who divides out resources equally to everyone. This occurs at a large feast that is held at Regis's house.

And it is on one of these days, during the Feast of Spring, that I begin my narrative.

I felt Elliot shaking me in my bed that morning. "Natalie!" he said calmly into my ear, "It's probably a good time to wake up!" I groaned as I pushed his face away from my bed. "Why?" I protested. "We did plenty of work last night." Elliot shook his head as I started pulling out clothes for the day. "It's not work! It's the Feast of Spring today! You didn't forget, did you?" I shrugged. I guess I had forgotten, but I didn't really want Elliot to know that.

After getting dressed, my family and I ate breakfast at Nick's diner. It wasn't that satisfying, but the food at the restaurants is never that good anyways. I wouldn't have realized how average it tasted if Pierre didn't cook for me when I went over to his house.

We had about two hours before we would begin preparations for the dinner. Elliot suggested that the two of us take a walk, but I told him I didn't feel like it. I stood outside of the café after finishing the meal until he had strolled away to Sprout Island, the other island where quite a bit of people live. I actually did want to go on a walk- just not with Elliot. Instead, I made the short trip to Mirabelle's animal shop, which is just down the street from my house. Her daughter Julia was a good friend of mine. Julia agreed that a short walk around would be refreshing. She was a tall pretty girl with blonde hair. I'm pretty sure it is her hair's natural color, though there isn't really a way of knowing. As we walked out the door to the shop to begin, though, a small figure named Charlie ran up, grabbed my sleeve, and repeatedly tugged on it. Charlie is one of the two children living on the Islands.

"Natalie, Natalie!" "Yes, Charlie?" "Eliza turned down that wool you had me get her! I had to spend a lot of money on that, too! I thought you said she liked wool!" I couldn't help but smirk a little. Eliza is the other child of the Community. For some unexplainable reason, Charlie actually likes her. Of course Eliza doesn't like wool. She complains about its texture all the time. No, I'm not trying to torture the unfortunate boy. I'm trying to get Charlie to see that his ambitions simply won't work out. Now, do I get a little satisfaction from messing with his ridiculous crush? Well… Yeah, of course.

"Well Charlie, that means there are two options. One is that she is too shy to accept it and she really likes you." Eliza is anything but shy. "And the other option is that she simply has no interest in you." Charlie thought about it for a couple seconds. "Well, in that case… I guess I better go try again and convince her that it is ok for her to take something from me! Thanks, Natalie! You're the best!"

All you can do is try, I guess.

With that distraction out of the way, I waved Julia to lead the way. I guess she didn't disagree with my strategies regarding Charlie and Eliza because she didn't say a word on the matter. We took the bridge which leads to the island with the farm run by brother and sister Mark and Chelsea.

"Well…" Julia began, "tonight should be fun. Did you have any surplus this season?" I shook my head. "No… I ran out about a week ago." Julia gave me a funny look. "I don't think it is best that you should be so wasteful." "I wasn't being wasteful. Being wasteful is having surplus. The money goes right back into the Fund like it does every season." "But that means you had to eat those peanut butter sandwiches." I shrugged. "I spent my money helping set up all of the festivals. That's a good use, right?" Julia nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so. Life might be a little monotonous without them."

My friend quickly shut her lips and reddened after her remark. We generally are accepting of criticism in personal matters, but criticizing the way of life on the islands isn't a good idea.

"Don't worry, Julia… I really don't care." "I recommend that you do, Natalie. It was irresponsible of me to say that. This is a good place to live." "And how would you know if it wasn't?" I could tell that I was making her uncomfortable. I have a habit of speaking my mind- not an overly good thing to do. Those who do usually get the Departure. "I'm sorry. I don't want to sound worse than I am. I was just being rhetorical when I said that. These islands are my home." I don't think my response completely redeemed me, though.

"Look… there's Mark and Chelsea out there in the fields planting a new batch of crops," remarked Julia, clearly trying to break the awkwardness. It was a stupid comment. That's what farmers typically do. But they did look like they were actually working pretty hard. I guess they weren't too different from myself. You'll get your Quarterly Quota every season, regardless of how much money you make. I still spend most of my time working, though- just for the sake of knowing I've done something useful. Unfortunately, not everyone else follows the same philosophy.

Our feeble conversation broke down and the two of us reluctantly returned to our homes. My mother always wants me in the gaudiest outfits on Feast days, and I didn't really look forward to the occasion.

For the Feast of Spring, she always forces me into a ridiculous light blue dress with gold lacing. Elliot laughed when he saw me in it after mother helped me put it on, though he backed away when I made a step towards him. I guess the dress wasn't entirely ugly… I just don't like bringing attention to myself.

Nathan, the priest who lives on Harvest Goddess Island along with his assistant Alisa, greeted the villagers as they entered Regis's house while Sabrina, the Head of the Community's daughter, recorded who was present. Elliot was slow getting ready- as usual- so we got there later than most.

Regis himself directed us to our chairs in his upstairs dining room. There were five tables set up in order to fit us all inside. Unfortunately, just as every year, he sat me down beside Elliot and my mother. For some reason, my brother always got to sit on the edge of the family instead of me, so he got to talk with Lanna. Well, I guess I wasn't missing out on much. Lanna is a very strange woman, to say the least.

I sat at the table with my face squarely located in the palm of my hand, beating the table gently with a silver fork. I wanted nothing more than the money and getting out of the place, but everyone else thought it was a good idea to talk, so we sat there for forty minutes doing nothing. Eventually, though, Regis got our attention as he stood at the head of his table.

"Friends! I welcome you here today for the Feast of Spring!" Everyone clapped. "Now, Nick, Haila, and Pierre will present the meal!" Regis snapped a finger, and the three people mentioned brought out trays.

We were each given a dish of scrambled eggs and a dish of deviled eggs with a small side of corn. Elliot said those strange deviled egg things were boiled, but it tasted more like it was the product of a microwave to me. I ate it all the same as, regardless of how well it tasted, it at least had a lot of calories. Elliot tried to act like it was actually good, but I could tell the food was really rather upsetting him. I came to the conclusion that Regis must have no taste buds, as he and some of the others at his table acted like they were actually enjoying the meal. Are vampires not able to taste food? That would certainly explain the mystery, considering he certainly looks like one.

As the last people neared finishing the meal, Charlie, who sat not far from me, complained about having a headache. His father nodded and said something to Regis, who stood up once again.

"Usually I would delay the giving of the Quota, but at the request of Chen, we will finish early today. Come up as I call your name."

Sabrina unveiled a large box filled to the lid with little slips of green paper wrapped in bundles. The names were called out in alphabetical order, so I had to wait a little before it was my turn. After receiving the Quota, everyone is expected to remain in his seat as Nathan and Alisa give a short prayer to the Harvest Goddess for blessing us. I didn't pay a whole lot of attention, as I didn't really understand the whole Goddess thing, but I stayed quiet out of respect for those who did.

When the ceremony was finally over, everyone stood up and began to file out of the building. Elliot nudged me on the shoulder. "Are you going home?" he asked. I shook my head. "That food was terrible," I said into his ear. "I'm making a stop." I'm sure he made some sort of… I don't know… stupid face because he's bound to know where my destination is. Elliot doesn't really like it when I'm around other guys. Probably because I'm the only girl he's spoken to in his entire life. But I don't really care what he thinks. Pierre's house is the only place I really feel at home.


	2. Chapter 2: Fun and Games

**Chapter 2- Fun and Games**

I spent an entire ten minutes outside of Pierre's door waiting for him to get home. While Nick and Haila are the cooks of the Islands, Pierre can best be described as the chef. He usually only cooks for special occasions such as the Island's many festivals. I'm sure he had to clean up some after the Feast, but this was ridiculous. When he finally arrived, I stood up from my sitting position against the wall. At first I tried to be angry with him, but I'm sure I just sounded curious.

"Where have you been?" Pierre shook his head as he fumbled to find the handle to his door in the dark. "I was talking with Nick and Haila. Apparently… mind you, both accused the other as the guilty party… at least one of them wasn't wearing gloves when handling the food." "And… why were they upset over that?" "Well, as free from regulations as these islands are, you aren't really supposed to do that with food. It's just… unsanitary and downright nasty."

It was things like this that Pierre says that attract me to him. I sometimes… well, many times, feel that he is the only person on the island who can actually be trusted.

As he turned on the lights in his one room house, I dropped my Quota on the counter and sat down. Pierre looked at me slyly. "I'm guessing you didn't find today's meal…filling, eh?" I laughed a little. "That's probably a fair statement. What's on the menu tonight?"

Pierre opened his refrigerator and pulled out a crate of intermixed fruit. He proceeded to opening a cabinet and lifting a blender onto the counter. I smiled. "Fruit smoothie. You know me too well." "Ahh… I don't think that's possible." I broke a small smile. "Oh, shut up," I tossed back playfully.

The two of us sat there and drank quietly for a minute or two until I thought of something.

"Pierre?" "Yes, Natalie." "How are you able to afford paying for both of us? It has to take a huge chunk of your Quota to have me eat with you so often. And how is your food always so good when nothing else is?" Pierre took a sip of his smoothie while he thought. "Yes, having you over is definitely a sacrifice. But I'm willing to make some sacrifices to see you happy." I think I probably blushed some, but I don't think he noticed. Pierre leaned in closer. "Do you want to know my secret of how my food is better than everyone else?" Obviously, I nodded an affirmative. "Alright, I'll tell you. I pay Will to buy me some food from town when he goes out. The stuff we make here just isn't as good."

Will is a nobleman of some sort. He has a yacht that he takes to the Mainland every once in a while. I think his job is to scout the surrounding area to entice more people to join the Community. More often, I just see him loitering about the islands doing nothing useful. When you join the Sunshine Islands, all of your money is supposed to be collected up into the community Fund. But for some reason I highly suspect Will skipped over this rule. He makes up for it though by handing out expensive gifts to the children.

"Really?" "Really." "What if he turns you in? You could get in serious trouble!" Pierre shrugged. "He won't say a word as long as he is being paid."

I spun my straw around my nearly empty glass, almost in a mischievous manner. "Don't worry, I won't say a word." "I know that. Otherwise, I would never have told you!"

I thought it was pretty cool that Pierre was a rebel of sorts. But then again, it's nothing more than child games. Nobody would actually dare do something of real importance, not even myself. It's not like the Islands are bad or anything. It's just fun to bend the rules sometimes.

The two of us had an awkward moment as we looked at each other. Pierre opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. I made a look that made it clear that I was waiting on what he planned to say. He sighed a little.

"Natalie… you… don't show much expression." "So?" "I was just wondering… how do you expect people to know if you like them or not?"

Of course I like Pierre. More than anyone else on these islands. But I didn't really want to have this conversation. I knew what he was trying to say.

"I don't know… I guess it should just be obvious!" "It's not, Natalie." "Alright! The truth is, I have no desire for a relationship. Not with anyone!" Pierre looked somewhat downcast. "Well, I wasn't asking you to marry me or anything." Now I was actually getting somewhat mad. "Isn't that the point of a relationship? Getting married?"

Pierre didn't give an answer, so I stormed off to my house despite Pierre's pleading for me to stop. I quickly got ready for bed and made little effort to be quiet for the sake of the others. The truth is, I do feel somewhat bad about it now. I was a little too harsh on Pierre. I hope he doesn't dislike me as a result of what I said. Alright, that's just a little stupid. It was just a small argument.

I tried to get to sleep, but I heard a low conversation in the other room. I couldn't make out exactly what my mother and Gramps were saying, but I understood the direction of the subject. Me. And how I am putting myself in danger with my attitude. Gramps said it's something with the kids these days to be rebellious, but I clearly heard my mom say that she feels bad that she didn't raise me better.

Now that is one of the worst insults you can give a person. Nobody wants to be told what a bad person he is, but for a mother to tell you that she "failed" is just plain out wrong.

But maybe she was right. I've done nothing good in my life… I haven't even done anything bad enough to mention, either. Existence is little more than breathing air and taking up space. I'd love to share my life story with anyone, but there just isn't anything to talk about. I tried to tell myself differently, but all I remember from that night was slowly falling asleep, smothering my tears before they could leave my eyes with a pillow.


	3. Chapter 3: Emotions Never Felt

**Chapter 3- Emotions Never Felt**

The next morning started out as ordinary as any other. In our line of work, Gramps and mother gather things that the other people on the island have ready to sell. Elliot will organize them into categories, and I will load these into containers and mark them by Elliot's categories. Once done with that, all of us will take the containers to Kirk's boat which he and Vaughn will go into town in. It's a remarkably repetitive line of work. Some people don't hardly do anything. For example, Gannon the carpenter and Chen who runs a general store only need to work when the occasional customer comes by. But my family's work is consistent. Sure, I can take off some time, but it only means more work to do later.

After one trip to Kirk's boat, I told Elliot I wanted a short break. I thought about going to go apologize to Pierre, but I'm not a huge fan of such duties. Instead, I decided to go on another walk. Instead of going to Chelsea and Mark's farm, I headed for Sprout Island.

I was actually smiling up until I was crossing over the bridge and one of the boards gave out under my foot. Half my body slid down into the water while my right hand kept me from falling completely in. I shouted in annoyance, turning a few heads. Two of these would come to aid pulling me out. One of these was Denny, who is the fisherman of the Community. The other was Lanna, who I've mentioned before. Apparently she was really famous on the Mainland, but apparently she rejected that lifestyle to join the Islands. Or maybe she's taking a break? I don't know. Everyone in the Community is supposed to have a job, but I'm not actually sure what she does outside of giving the occasional vocal performance.

Once I was pulled back up onto the surviving part of the bridge, I thanked the two for their assistance. Denny simply acknowledged my gratitude, but Lanna, as usual, had to turn everything into some speech.

"Applaud me not, Natalie. It is nothing less than the purpose of our lives to work in harmony. It is against the very nature of humanity to be in dissent. You see, when the Harvest Goddess created life, it was instilled in us that only once every one of us, together, put aside all of our difference that we can achieve our full potential in this system of nature. Yes, maybe we look different, think different… but within the depths of our hearts, all of us are ultimate the same- pure good. Some have tried to put restricti-…"

It was about this time when I stopped listening. I'm sure she had some great message to give, but I've heard her talk enough to know that she's not far short from insane.

Lanna continued talking until Denny tapped her on the shoulder. "Lanna… are you interested in coming to my house? I have some interesting new baiting strategies that you might like." Lanna smiled. "That sounds nice Denny. However, I have meditation hour coming up here soon. Once I am done with that, I would be delighted to meet with you." Lanna left without another word towards her house. Denny shrugged his shoulders and I smirked a little. "I'll see you later, Natalie." I nodded and Denny proceeded in the same direction.

As for me, walk time was over. I walked briskly to Gannon's shop, threw open the door, and glared at him when I saw the exceedingly large and nasty man in the corner of the room playing with his daughter Eliza. To say their appearances are different would be a slight understatement.

"Gannon, we're having more bridge troubles. The one between Venture and Sprout Islands went out this time." Gannon frowned. "Well, that's what happens. Things break. Do you expect me to just go and fix it out of my own time?" I rolled my eyes. Typical Sunshine Islands resident. I pulled out ten dollars and slapped them onto his counter. Gannon stood up.

"I'm actually busy playing with my daughter right now, so-." "No, Gannon. No more money. Do it later for all I care. Keep taking advantage of me and I'll just do it myself." He said something about having to provide for Eliza as I walked through the door. Now I reckon that might be true. The little diva probably uses both of their Quotas, plus some that she convinces Charlie to donate to her.

I was still mulling over the thought when Julia placed a hand on my shoulder as I started the walk back home. I shuddered in surprise at the touch.

"Goodness Julia, what were you doing sneaking up on me like that for?" She blushed. "Sorry… I'm really sorry. It's just that we think we might need your help." "Help with what?" "What do you mean by 'Help with what?'" "I mean I have no idea what you are talking about!"  
"Ohh, Natalie… it's Charlie. He's not doing very well. Not very well at all. He's really sick. Looks terrible, is vomiting… we're trying to get some advice as to what to do. Some other people have stopped by already, but they don't know what to do."

I've not been known to be an expert on health. Obviously they're rather desperate if they're trying to recruit my assistance. "… Alright, if you say so. Is he at his house?" Julia nodded, and the two of us jogged over, taking a moment to jump over the section of the broken bridge.

Charlie was on his bed, his hand being squeezed by his father. Mirabelle, Julia's mother, was pulling a towel out of a bowl of water to place on the boy's head. She looked up when she saw us.

"Is he better or worse?" Julia asked. "Worse. Much worse." I walked over to Charlie, pulled up a chair, and took his free hand.

"I'm… just… so…" He was trying to mumble something, but I couldn't tell what. His face was the color of snow in a soft morning light. He continued to try telling me something, but I couldn't make out any words between each convulsion of his body. I have no medical experience. Then again, nobody else on the island does. And we don't have the resources to even find out what to do.

Well, we have some. As I sat there, awkwardly trying to comfort the poor Charlie, Carol barged through the door carrying a heavy book. She sat down next to me and opened it up.

Carol runs the inn on Sprout Island. In reality, it ought to be called the "apartments." Temporary stays on the Islands are not encouraged, so there isn't much need for a hotel. The building primarily acts as the living quarters for her, Vaughn, Kirk, and Lily.

The book must have had something to do with diagnosing diseases because Carol began asking me what symptoms Charlie was having. I'm not sure why she began by asking me, considering I had been there a whole minute.

"Fever… Vomiting… Some sort of painful spasms… I don't know, really..." "That could suggest a large number of possib-." "Like I don't know that, Carol! You asked, I answered!"

Carol sighed, but she didn't chastise me or anything. "Do you have any idea how he may have been given this virus? If it is a virus…" "How would I know? Am I Charlie's overseerer?" I was going to continue my rant when I thought of what Pierre told me the previous night. "… Actually, is it possible that it could be food poisoning? I remember hearing that someone didn't following proper health procedures for the Feast last night." Chen nodded his head. "Charlie… he did start getting a headache a little while after finishing his meal." Carol's face lit up as she shut the book. "Well, then there is no need for this. Food poisoning is not fatal. I'm sure the boy is in pain right now, but he'll be alright. Thanks for the help, Natalie."

I raised an eyebrow as Carol left with her heavy book. Really? Just like that, you leave? Well, I know food poisoning isn't fatal. And there isn't much point in stay around. I grabbed Chen by the shoulder.

"Tell me when he is better, ok? I'm sure he'll be fine in your hands." Chen nodded and gave thanks, and I made my way to the door. "I'll see all of you later."

At home, I saw my family sitting at the table eating a small snack. They turned and stared at me when I entered. And they continued to stare. Obviously I had done something wrong. Nothing is more nerve-racking when you're in trouble for something and you have no idea what it is.

"… What?!" "Natalie," started my mother firmly. "Fine…. What…?" I retried, more quietly this time around. "I just wanted to ask where you were." "Oh. Sorry. I just thought… never mind. I was at Chen's, helping attend to Charlie." She sighed. "I thought that might be the case. I saw him, too. Poor boy." "Carol said he would be alright." "That's good news," said Elliot, obviously trying to stop feeling so left out of the conversation. "No duh."

I sat down with the rest of the others and suffered through a conversation about how I should stop saying mean things to my brother. When we finally finished, we set back to work. It would have been a long shift, probably up until we would go to bed. But it would be cut off about forty minutes short when we heard screaming from down the street. My mother immediately stood up and ran out the door. The rest of us followed at a safe distance. People were beginning to converge at Chen's house. Gannon stood at the door, blocking it to everyone outside. I figured my mother made it in, as she wasn't present. Although Gannon wouldn't let us in, we inched closer to try making out some of the conversation.

"Felicia… hold him steady… and…" "I'm trying… I think…" "… probably wouldn't be of use now…" "People... he's…" "Turn him on his side!" "… Well, that's not promising…" "… seen worse…" "Sure…" "Hold, hold, hold!" "No…" "… in there…" "Do something!" "I… I…" "It's probably…"

A few more muffled sounds followed. The sound of sobbing wasn't too far behind either. My mother was the first one to appear in the doorway of the house. She didn't have to say anything. Instead, she grabbed me by the back of the neck firmly but compassionately with one hand and Elliot with the other. When she sat us down at our kitchen table, she slowly pulled out a chair for herself.

"… I think you know how that ended." Elliot and I nodded. "We did what we could. In life, freak things happen sometimes… this was a freak thing… Life isn't always fair." Her eyes began to tear up. "You two should go to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow. I could use a moment to myself."

I shook my head. "What is it, Natalie?" "… How can you say that?" My mother's face began to contort. "How can I say what?" "All of it! A freak thing? No, it's not a 'freak thing'. It's stupidity. People just don't fall over dead of food poisoning, of all things!" "Natalie!" "No, mom! Not this time! You know I'm right. How can someone not know what ought to be done? Has this happened before? I guess people just die in insignificant situations because this place is too backwards to have someone with medical experience."

Few times in my life have I ever seen my mother so furious. I guess it's because discipline isn't severely enforced unless it has to do with slandering of the Community. Well, I sort of did do that. She walked over to me, wrapped her hand around my ear, and covered my mouth. "Don't you ever say anything like that again, you hear me?! You hear me?! You could be taken away from us! We could lose you…"

I was initially about to spout something back, but I thought about these words. For once, I knew my mother actually loves me. She couldn't stand the thought of losing me. Hands shaking, I reached out and threw my arms around her neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" We both cried onto each other. Elliot had the idea of joining in on the hug. I put my hand up and he wisely sat down. When the two of us regained our composure, I let go.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I guess I just got a little too emotional." My mother nodded. "I feel the same way. Just go to bed, and tomorrow we'll sort things out, alright?"

I was too exhausted to argue. I didn't even change out of my clothes. Regardless of essentially telling my mother that I wouldn't say anything, I still felt terrible. For the first time in my life, I truly saw what injustice looks like. What deep anger feels like. What sorrow sounds like. In my life, I've never been able to compare life on the Islands with life on the Mainland. But this I know to be true. We ought to have a doctor. The fact that we don't is absurd. I don't know the reason for why we don't. I don't even know if there is a reason outside of us not being able to find one interested in joining the Community. As it is, I can't whisper a word to anyone about my thoughts. Not Gramps, not mother, not even Pierre. Certainly not Elliot.

Yet the idea of such an innocent little boy dying in so much pain is so hard to bear. I feel bad that I couldn't help. I feel worse about making fun of his crush on Eliza. Children just do things like that. It's not like his inevitable failed relationship would damage him. I just had fun mocking him. How sick.

The thoughts kept me awake for a long time. Thankfully, Elliot was gracious enough to not say a word in bed that night about the loss of Charlie.


	4. Chapter 4: Observations

**Chapter 4- Observations**

Very rarely do I ever go to church. The concept of the Harvest Goddess is above my intellect. I'm not saying that the idea of a deity is confusing; it's just the way Nathan and Alisa explain the Goddess as both the representation of all religions yet say she's one whole being. I guess the occupation of priestess isn't in my future.

That day, though, the entire community was gathered inside the church. It was a little hot in the room as it isn't designed to fit so many people, but the event was far too solemn for anyone to even consider complaining.

Nathan was in the front of the room, making a speech about how Charlie was a very good child and that the Harvest Goddess would remember this. In the end, the Harvest Goddess is pure love. The same goes for humanity. We are a projection of this perfection…

The ceremony had turned too close to a sermon, so I lost focus. I wasn't the only one. I saw Will a couple pews over, apparently writing something down in a notebook. Carol was twiddling her thumbs, probably thinking it is her fault that Charlie died. She certainly shares much of the blame.

Most people took the appearance of grave sorrow. I suspect most there almost accepted the tragedy as part of the course of nature. Despite not saying anything, I don't think I was successful in hiding my resentment toward what happened. To my defense, a few others had the same expression. Sabrina, Regis's daughter, was mumbling about something which didn't sound too uplifting. Mark and Chelsea would occasionally shake their heads at something said. Then again, maybe I'm just looking for something that isn't there to make myself feel better.

When I decided to try listening to Nathan again, I realized that he was making his closing statements. Afterwards, all of us stood up and filed out of the church. The funeral was to be private, so there was nothing left for us to do. Kirk's boat can only hold a few people at a time, so my family had to wait our turn as the first load left back for the main islands. I was waiting silently when I finally noticed that someone was faintly calling my name from behind me. Much to my surprise, it was Sabrina. Neither of us are big talkers, so I was rather surprised to see her.

"… Sabrina." "… Natalie. Umm… your family has a set of keys to the warehouses, right?" The warehouses aren't really warehouses. They're the empty homes left by those who received the Departure. My family has one of the two sets of keys to the abandoned structures. One, because that is where all of the crates we use are stored. Two, if something Regis has stored in there is no longer necessary, he will tell us to have it shipped up off the islands.

"Of course I have the keys. Your father has the other set, though, so I'm not sure why you need them." "Sorry, sorry! I'm not trying to intrude. It's just that my father lost his, so I'll need yours to get in." "And… why do you want to get in?" "Books." No surprise there. Sabrina doesn't do anything other than reading books. She continued her explanation, however. "I'm hoping that there might be some books on medicine in there. I think that if I had read some material, I might have been able to help out with… well, you know."

Well, good for Sabrina. She wants to be a hero. "Alright, come by later and I'll give you the keys. Just try to get them back tonight, alright?" "Of course, of course. Thank you very much, Natalie."

We managed to get on the boat on its next run. When we got back, it was dinner time, so Gramps decided that we had the day off from work. Sabrina came by for the key, continuing her insistent displays of gratitude. Once we finished the dinner Mom made us, I decided to make another visit to Pierre's. The death of a child can do much to set your priorities straight.

I found Pierre at his house studying one of his many cookbooks. He snapped it shut when he saw me.

"Hello, Natalie." He wasn't helping me out at all. Maybe this was a bad idea…

"Hi." I took a seat next to him. "… Ok, I'm sorry about getting mad at you the other day. I was just being a little too defensive. I know you meant no harm by what you said."

"Apology accepted," Pierre responded quietly. "I thought I should come by and apologize. The whole thing seems rather silly now that I look back on it." Pierre finally decided to get involved. He reached over and placed a hand on top of mine. I didn't retract mine, surprisingly.

"It's not a problem, Natalie. I understand why you would be upset. Who would want to be with me? I don't have a life outside of cooking, I am a little on the cubby side, I-." "Pierre, don't start making me feel guilty." I looked intensely at him, but when he started laughing, I couldn't help myself either. He put his book back in a cabinet and returned back to his chair to continue talking with me. He was kind enough to change the subject after that.

When I got home later that night, Elliot told me that Sabrina hadn't come by to return the keys. So much for promising about coming back that night.

Thankfully, the events of the night were actually peaceful. Nobody got mad at me, nobody told me what to do, and mostly importantly, Elliot didn't say anything too extraordinarily stupid. Only somewhat dumb things, but that can't be helped. It was almost as if the turmoil of the previous events were already beginning to die down.

That is, until the next morning. I had already woken up, gotten dressed, and started pouring some cereal when I heard my mother gasp in horror. I glanced over almost casually to see her standing in front of the door, holding a piece of paper in her hands. It took a second for its meaning to register to me, but when it did, I was almost as terrified as she was.

I vaguely remember from my childhood. I don't even remember the man's name, but I remember watching him be shipped off of the Islands. Never allowed to return. I remember just as distinctly the same pain in Gramps's eyes when he pulled off the green notification on the door that day long ago.

There hasn't been a case of a Departure since. But there is a first for everything. There isn't any way of knowing who it is until you reach the docks on Sprout Island. Then the Head of the Community will announce the unlucky resident who will subsequently be escorted to Kirk's boat and disappear into the horizon.

"The meeting is to be held in half an hour," Gramps said after looking at the slip of paper. Apparently he and Elliot both understood the meaning of the article. "I'm sure it will be one of those two from the carpentry," he continued in that disgusted voice. Probably not. Both Eliza and Gannon have personalities well suited for the community. Yes, that was a little sarcastic.

My mother was too shocked to say anything after seeing that piece of paper. I know why. She thought it might be me. She had said before that I had the kind of personality that could endanger me. I didn't think it was out of the realm of possibility myself. But the chances were in favor of it being someone else. Perhaps it was Carol, who didn't bother to check the potential issues linked with food poisoning. Or maybe it was one of the people who might be construed as being disrespectful during the service. However, I could be counted in that group as well. Not to mention that I didn't do much to help Charlie.

Then another thought hit me as my family and I walked over to the other island. Sure enough, when everyone arrived at the docks, Regis called out a person to step forward. That person happened to be his own daughter.


	5. Chapter 5: Revelation

**Chapter 5- Revelation**

I had a hard time believing that Regis was really going to give up his own daughter, but his face was stern.

"Sabrina… it has come to the attention of the Head of the Community that your actions have… deemed you a threat to the survival of these islands. Do you have anything to say?" Sabrina couldn't even utter a syllable. Her face was covered with both shock and confusion. It's not like they were going to execute her or anything, but being removed from your home with nothing but the clothes on your back is somewhat daunting.

As I scanned the expressions of the others, the most prominent emotions were fear and submission. I was surprised to see Lily, who does work in the mines that run through the extinct lava tubes on Volcano Island, crumble to the ground. The rather serious Vaughn helped lift her to the feet.

"Regis, this girl just passed out." Regis sighed. "Very well. Help take her home."

Not far from these two were the farmers Mark and Chelsea. Chelsea was admonishing her brother about something, but he shook his head and charged forward.

There were a couple shrieks as he pushed through the crowd. Regis raised an eyebrow as Mark continued his charge. As it became clear that he was aiming for the Head of the Community, Regis made a motion to Gannon who placed his fist squarely into Mark's stomach.

The farmer grunted as he landed on his back in the dust. I think he got the wind knocked out of him because he failed to move. Regis bent down next to the fallen man.

"Now, now Mark. I presume you don't wish to join Sabrina on the boat, do you? ... Do you?!" Mark shook his head. "That's what I thought. Kirk, please proceed."

Chelsea dragged Mark away as Kirk placed handcuffs on Sabrina's hands. People describe the Departure as just a required duty, but it seems much more sinister than that to me.

Kirk told Sabrina to wave as the two stepped into the boat to start the trip to the Mainland, but her hands were shaking far too violently to complete such a task. People were allowed to leave at that point, but I watched until the boat disappeared into the horizon.

As I prepared to leave, Regis approached. "… Hello Natalie." He signified that he wanted me to open my hand. When I did, he dropped my keys into my palm. "I believe you lost these… do you have anything to say?" I wasn't sure what my answer was supposed to be, so I answered with a negative. Regis nodded his head and patted me on the back as he passed.

I think he was trying to send me some kind of message, but I was less interested in what revolved around Regis and Sabrina as I was about that involving Mark. Why would someone try to attack Regis like that? Did he want off of the Islands, too? It didn't any sense. So, I decided I would try asking him about it.

I approached Mark and Chelsea's house. I knocked on the door, but I don't think anyone could hear me over the screaming that was going on inside. There are no locks on the Islands other than those in the storage buildings, so all I had to do was turn the handle.

"There wasn't anything you could do, Mark! Gracious, you could have blown the operation! You could have di-!"

Chelsea jumped back when she saw me enter. Mark was bent over against the table in their house while Chelsea stood right next to his ear. Lily was sitting in another chair holding a glass of water. Vaughn stood with his arms crossed looking out a window on the back wall of the room.

"What are you do-! Umm… Natalie… hi," said Chelsea, stumbling around. I didn't really know what to say. "Hi." Chelsea took a seat next to Mark. "I… yes… you didn't hear that, did you?" "I don't know. I did hear something about an operation and Mark almost dying."

Inexplicably, Chelsea began pulling at her hair and banging on the table with her fist. Nobody else's expression changed visibly, though Vaughn did take the last seat at the table. Everyone was focused on Chelsea's apparent madness.

"We're lost, Mark. All of us. Over a year of getting in the system, just to lose it to a couple of troublesome little girls." One of those must have been me. I suspect the other is Sabrina.

I felt a little insulted. "I haven't done anything! I don't even know what you are talking about." Chelsea looked up eagerly. "Seriously?" "Yeah, seriously." "… I see. In that case you are free to go."

Who would actually say that? "Not happening." "Really," she hissed in return, "this is my house. I can tell you to do what I want you to do." "Fine. And I'm free to tell Regis what I did hear."

Chelsea thought about this. "Well… then I guess we'll just have to silence yo-." "Chelsea. Come on." Mark finally spoke for the first time. He struggled to stand up, but when he was able to accomplish this, he guided me to his chair.

"Promise me that you'll not say a word of what I'm about to tell you," began Mark. I nodded my head. "No, say it," he insisted. "Alright. I promise." Chelsea said something to herself that sounded like complaining, but Mark ignored her.

"Ok. You probably aren't going to believe me, but I promise you I'm telling you the truth. I… me and Chelsea… work for the Mainland government. We're here to investigate and hopefully bring down these Islands."

I tried to take him seriously, but I couldn't help but begin to laugh hysterically. As his expression failed to change, I began to realize that he was probably being serious. I managed to calm down.

"That… um… wow. Why would you do that? You don't like us?" Mark nodded to Lily, who reluctantly sat down her glass.

"Natalie… do you remember the mining incident that occurred here thirteen years ago?" "No, not really." "You should. It was the last time a Departure occurred." "Oh. I see. Yeah, I remember a man being sent away." "His name was Slater. He was my cousin."

That was something I wasn't expecting. "I liked him a lot," she continued. "All of my family was disappointed when he decided to come out here to the Islands. No one heard from him again.

A few years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to 'move' out here for a short period of time and see how he was doing and tell his parents what life here was like. To my surprise, Slater was nowhere to be found. From asking a few questions, I learned that my cousin had gone wild after a friend of his got killed in a mining incident that nearly cost Slater his life as well. His accusations of poor safety regulations earned him the Departure."

Vaughn took over her story. "I came to the Islands a few years before when I learned that I could be given solid employment, something I've never had. I had no suspicions of anything bad going on until Lily asked me to look for her cousin when I make my trips to the Mainland. I could find nothing leading to him. Two others have gotten the Departure in the Islands' history. I had no success with them either."

I shook my head. "That doesn't explain Chelsea and Mark." Chelsea elected to finish the story.

"Vaughn contacted our agency about the disappearances. However, we didn't have any hard evidence, and the government isn't that interested in seeing the Sunshine Islands shut down. They see it as a good place to dump society's hippies."

I have no idea what a hippie is, but I didn't share this. "Why didn't you just charge in here and arrest people?" "As I said, we didn't have hard evidence. Not to mention, we didn't, and still don't, know who all is involved in the corruption here. Not you, I hope?" "Uh… no." "So you say. Well, I would have found out by now who is involved, but we are seriously restricted in how we work. When you move to the Islands, you have to have all of your belongings checked. You wouldn't know since you've lived here since you were born. But we can't bring hardly anything electronic in. No phones, no computers... no guns." I have no idea of what a phone or computer is, but I recognize a gun as one of the weapons that people kill each other with on the Mainland.

"What's a phone… or a computer, for that matter." Chelsea shook her head. "I forget you stilll live in the Stone Age. A phone is something you use to talk with people far away. We could really use it to communicate back home. A computer can also be used for typing words up. There are some things here that have been made by computers… you just don't recognize it."

Mind blowing. I'm not so sure about the possibility of this phone, but if Chelsea is bold enough to say things I see everyday have been made by a computer, it's probably real. I feel rather stupid that all these people on the Mainland understand how this stuff works and I don't.

"… That makes sense. So, I'm hoping that in a year of work, you've come up with a little bit of support for the theory. I mean, just a little."

Chelsea lowered her head, so I looked at Mark. He turned to the side. I finally got an answer from Vaughn, who shook his head even though I could tell he know what the result would be.

"No evidence? And you really expect me to believe that my friends are dropping people off into the ocean to their deaths, and yet you haven't found them?! Unbelievable." I stood up to leave.

"Finding people on the bottom of the ocean with little idea of where the boat left them is next to impossible when no one believes you," countered Mark. "Few back home consider our story plausible either. All we really have is the testimony of Vaughn and Lily. People don't want to believe that something's wrong. It would be embarrassing if the government had allowed this to be going on. Others, I think, wish that the Mainland would end up like this. I fear we're only a few years away from that goal. Anyways, the point is that we're short on help, but we feel confident in our story."

I shook my head as I continued toward the door. Chelsea jumped up and slammed it shut before I could exit. I threw my hands up in exasperation.

"You can't tell them Natalie! Please. You don't understand." It was the first time she sounded like she wasn't in command of the situation. "I never said I was! I'm not going to weed you out because I don't think you mean wrong. I just think you four are insane." That comment probably won't improve relations with one who was there.

I was already two steps outside when I heard Mark make one last statement.

"Even if no one has been killed, I've been here long enough to know I would still devote myself to seeing things changed."

I tried to think about what I had heard on my way home, but all it succeeded in doing was making my head hurt. Mark and Chelsea some sort of Mainland agents, and Vaughn and Lily are helping them. I wonder if anyone else knows...

Elliot was outside apparently practicing his speaking skills to himself when I walked by.

"Hi, Natalie. Where have you been?" "Nowhere," I spat back somewhat hatefully. I gave Gramps and mother an equally cold greeting when I met them in the kitchen. I was mad, though I didn't know why. Sure, Chelsea is a bit of a jerk, but no one else had said anything rude to me. All of them seemed genuinely dedicated to what they believed.

It started to hit me several hours later. I was mad because I actually sort of agreed with them. I felt a desire for change after I had to listen to Charlie die. Sabrina felt it, too, and look at how that turned out. I've always been one to want to rebel. It's a miracle I haven't already been deemed unworthy of life on the Islands. I still don't know exactly what is wrong with the place. It's something more than just that there isn't a qualified doctor. Part of me still wants to hold on to the life I have…

But the wiser side of me says that it's too late for that. Once that seed of doubt is planted, it's far from a simple process to stop it.


	6. Chapter 6: The Cherry Blossom

**Author's Note:** I posted the first five chapters in a group, as they comprise of the first of three segments of the story. These next two chapters are the transition from the introduction to the latter half. As they are so closely related, I've posted them together. Most additions from here on will most likely be one chapter at a time. There isn't really a large amount of action in Chapters 6&7, but they are important in developing the characters as well as setting up key themes of the story as a whole. Feel free to review or PM me if you have any questions. A lot of it will be answered as the story progresses, but I may have missed something or need to clarify an idea. Thanks for being interested enough to make it this far.

* * *

**Chapter 6- The Cherry Blossom**

My narrations of the last couple of days probably make me look considerably lazier than I really am. I don't normally take so many breaks from work. In fact, I never got an opportunity to speak with Chelsea and Mark for several days after that first meeting. It wasn't until I decided to use my lunch break to try finding the two farmers that I got a chance to talk with them on the matter. When I visited their farmhouse, I found only Mark inside. He was working on some sort of catalog that I imagine was dealing with his animals. He gently shut it as I entered and crossed his hands on his table.

"I thought you would show up sooner," he mused in a voice that pretended to sound as if he was talking to himself. I hate sarcasm. At least when it isn't me utilizing it.

I roughly picked up a chair and sat down next to him. "And I actually thought you were the nicer of the two." "Hey… I was being serious." "Of course."

Neither of us spoke for a good ten seconds before Mark finally asked the inevitable question.

"So… why are you here?" "I think the better question to ask is why you are here." "I've told you. I'm investigating the disappearance of Lily's cousin Slater, as well as the rest of those who got the Departure treatment." "Yes, you've made that clear. What I don't get is why you said that you would try to bring down the Community even if they weren't dead."

Mark stood up and paced the room while rubbing his chin. I waited as patiently as I could until he took a seat.

"Where should I start? I sure wish Chelsea was here-." "Mark. Stop complaining and get to your point." "Alright, alright. First, though, I have to ask you something. Do you accept everything you are told?"

What kind of question is that? "… I don't know." "For example, do you believe that the quota system actually gives out equal amounts of cash to everyone on the island?" "…Obviously. That's how the thing works, in case you still haven't figured that out in a whole year." "Thanks for answering the question. You do believe everything that people tell you. Let me help you out with this one- people are lying to you about the quota system." "… I don't understand." "Do you really… and I mean really… think that everyone gets the same amount of money? Sure, good ol' William came into the Islands with a lot of resources already… well, technically that should have gone into the Fund anyways… but that's a different story… But Regis? Come on. Even as Head of the Community, he is supposed to live on the same amount as you do. Yet he is living in that huge mansion while you live in that two room shack. No offense intended."

I was silent. I guess I had never really thought about it before. If I had time to come up with a good answer, I would suggest the possibility that Regis spent the majority of his quota on belongings. But Mark did have a point. No one has that much quota to work with. I still can't believe I had never noticed the disparity before on my own.

Mark continued. "That, among other things, is an example of how people in more powerful positions are manipulating you. Do you imagine that if Regis had gotten sick instead of Charlie that nothing more would have been done? No, he would have found himself the best medical care in the world. 'Equality' is not much more than a word used to make the poor people like you feel better."

It hurt my pride a little to be called poor, but the only reaction I made was grimacing. Mark, though, still had more to say.

"Also worth mentioning are some of the perverted aspects of the culture on these Islands. For example, what is your viewpoint on animals?" "Well, I don't own any myself, but I wouldn't mind buying one to make som-." "- That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about another fine example of the gross usage of 'equality', or better put in this case, 'fairness'. You don't eat or kill animals... at all. Not even an ant." That was a hasty judgment. I know what I'm told but those ants can get rather annoying at times…

"You say that animals are not really any different from humans," Mark continued to insist. "They aren't," I finally intervened. "They breath, they eat, and they can show some kinds of intelligence. I figured you had been taught that at your fancy Mainland schools."

Mark snapped his fingers as he walked to his kitchenette and opened the door to a refrigerator. He pulled out an egg and tossed it to me on his way back. I examined it, expecting to see something significant. But it was just an egg.

"Do you know what that is, Natalie?" "It's an egg. What's the point?" "The point is, that is more than something that we just eat. Inside each one of those things is a tiny chick that will one day hatch if it isn't interfered by outside sources." At that point, I could tell where he was going with his analogy.

"Sure, the chick is very small at first. But it is there, it is alive. And yet your people kill and eat those eggs like those little guys were never there." I felt a tad sick to my stomach looking at that egg, so I laid it down onto the table. Mark obviously realized that I was upset, so he sat back down at the table across from me.

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't eat eggs. I'm just pointing out how the Community says things that sound good, but do little more than take a shred truth and bend it out of shape. You preach life and equality for all- you practice death and discrimination."

My head began to spin a little, so I stood up from my chair, nearly tripping on it in the process.

"Where are you going? I'm-." "I'm going home… It's not your fault. I just think I'm getting a headache… I'll… I'll come back later, alright?" I left quickly enough to make sure that Mark couldn't get the opportunity to say anything else.

When I reached the bridge to take me home, I paused a second to sit along the rails, take off my shoes, and wet my feet in the ocean. The smell of the salty water refreshed my senses and allowed me to think over Mark's words. The things he said had a ring of truth in them. But it was so foreign, so… Mainlandish. I wanted to talk with someone I knew, trusted…

Pierre.

When I thought of him, I knew that I would have to talk with him as soon as possible. I had spent too much time as it was for a work day. It's my job to be an example of hard work in the family. If I don't put in the effort, what is going to spur Elliot or Gramps to do anything useful? So, I didn't get a chance until that night to meet with Pierre.

I was lying in bed waiting to hear Elliot begin to snore before starting my little adventure. Gramps and mother usually don't go to bed until a couple of hours after we do, so I knew I had a solid window of opportunity. All three of them would have been upset if I snuck out without permission, but I knew that Elliot would fall asleep soon enough and the other two were out at Mirabelle's for some reason or another. I would only have about an hour of safety, but I knew that should be plenty enough time to clear my mind.

As I suspected, Elliot quickly lolled away. I threw a jacket of my clothing and listened at the entrance of the bedroom in case I had been mistaken about the others being gone, but after a few seconds of dead silence (with the exception of Elliot's breathing), I ventured into the living room and out into the cool night air.

Pierre was still awake when I knocked on his door, having been working on a new idea for a type of cream soup. He seemed surprised to see me, as I rarely came at such a late hour, but he pulled up a stool to the counter all the same. He walked to the other side and tapped his foot. He looked up after about six taps.

"Fruit sandwich!" "I'm not here for food, Pierre." If he didn't get the message before, he must have understood then that something was wrong. "No food, hmm? … umm… so you are here for me, ehh?" "I… uhh… I guess you can say that. I just want to ask you something." "Alright. Hit me."

I leaned forward and rested my chin on my forearm.

"What was life like on the Mainland? Is there anything better about it than here?"

Pierre's face lost most of its color. "I moved away from the Mainland for a reason. I like it here more." "And how is it better?" I fired back. "It just is. It's… easier." "Easier doesn't mean better." "Sure it does. If it doesn't, than would you define 'better' as?" "I… I don't know…"

I was stumped. Pierre had won the argument. I was going to tell him to shut up and drop the subject, but I before I did, I recognized that we had just been in a fight. Pierre and I don't quarrel often, with the exception of that time on the night of the Feast of Springs. Mark had put in my head a desire to challenge things. And it didn't just stop at that. Another question hit me so hard that I nearly cursed when I realized how stupid I was to never think of it.

"You know… you cook for the Festivals and the Feasts, right?" "Yes." "Then why is the stuff I eat always garbage. Sure, two thirds of the time I should be eating from the fabulous menus of Nick and Haila, but not once have I gotten something of yours. Or, at least, unless you choke under pressure and cook far worse at the events than you do for me here."

"I… Well…" I was victorious that time. He couldn't give me a good answer. I had not thought of it before, but I had even more support for my cause.

"In fact, I've noticed that Regis always seems to have really good looking food. Does he get special benefits because he's 'more important' than me?!" Pierre shook his head vehemently this time. "Of course he's not as important as you! Not by a long mile. The whole reason I've done it is for you!"

He looked at me earnestly before his face broke out in embarrassment. He knew that he had spilled the truth and that I didn't fail to catch it.

"You… you're paid by Regis aren't you? He wants the good stuff… not the kind of ingredients that we have here, not the work of Nick or Haila! He pays you for your help, and he turns a blind eye to you getting food from the Mainland. Heck, he probably even forces Will to go do the work for the two of you!" I pushed my chair backwards to distance myself from Pierre. "That's how you feed me all the time… dirty cash."

Pierre looked to the side. "It's just not that big of a deal, Natalie. It's just food." I actually laughed at that comment. "You say that food is not that big of a deal! That's a first! And it is a big deal! It's wrong. You hid it for a reason. All you care about is getting some extra notes and making me think that you're some sort of awesome guy. You couldn't care less about my family, my friends… You don't even care that Charlie died!"

Pierre began to shake violently. I've never seen him so angry before or since. "You have no right to say that! Do you really think that a little boy dying doesn't faze me?!" "Well, you certainly didn't do anything to stop it! I don't know if it was the ingredients or the preparations by the other two cooks, but you didn't even bother to inspect the food they made! You could have been able to tell that something was wrong! But you didn't care, as long as you had your overweight Quota in your pocket!"

I could tell that Pierre was mustering up all the strength he had to prevent himself from exploding. He pointed towards the door.

"That is quite enough harassment for tonight. If it really bugs you that much, you have my permission stop participating in this 'scandal' and never come back!" "Fine! I'll take you up on that, doughboy!"

I turned around at the door in order to fit in one last insult. "Oh! Sorry for a weak explanation. I was talking about the extra money you had, not your waistline. I guess you came to that conclusion on your own."

I'll never know what went through his mind as I ran back to my bedroom. Thankfully, no one else was the wiser about what had happened. I was glad to be back safe in bed, but I wish my house wasn't so close to that of the fat conman. I considered the option that I was possibly wrong, but I elected to throw it aside for at least the night. Being unwaveringly angry sounded like a better idea than trying to sort the matter out.

I couldn't help but think of the two farmers. Mark had warned me about trusting everything I hear. He had listed some valid issues, sure. But this time I came up with something all on my own. And he wasn't even done bringing things up when I stumbled off.

I tried to picture what he would have said had I not left for the rest of the night, but nothing I could imagine is worth mentioning. I would have to wait until I could speak with him again to have my eyes opened even further.

I suppose that if I'm going to have my eyes opened, they must have been closed to start with. I'd take that statement back, but I reckon that if I put it out there I must believe it somewhere deep in my heart.


	7. Chapter 7: Two Kinds of Freedom

**Chapter 7- Two Kinds of Freedom**

With a lot of hard work (and a surprising effort from Elliot), we were ahead enough on our schedule that Gramps decided to call for a free day. Three nights had passed since my talk with Pierre, and I haven't said a word to him since. I've seen him on occasion, but all he does is give me a wounded look before turning away. Crybaby.

I decided to assent to spending a few hours with Elliot to please my mother as well as to hopefully impress my family enough that they would forget to ask where I was going afterwards. Both endeavors were successful.

As it was, it was still a work day for everyone else on the island. Mark was missing, but I saw Chelsea in the fields on Ranch Island pulling weeds. When I approached, I could hear her complaining rather loudly to herself.

"Stupid little things… I'm not even sure what the purpose of taking them out is when they just grow back… you'd think with all the scientists in the world, somebody… somebody could figure out how to make them stop… in fact, I almost suspect that they're somehow engineered to resist being removed... lousy corporations probably do it to make sure that we buy their stupid chemicals, or whateve-."

I remained quiet, hoping to hear more of her rant, but she noticed me when she moved to toss some of the thin blades of weeds to the side. Chelsea seemed mildly surprised to see me, but she didn't recoil or anything. She did make a slight movement with her hand to the side of her hip, but she gave up the task hastily enough that I could have been imagining it.

She stared at me blankly. "… What?" "Nothing… I was just stopping by. I was hoping to talk with Mark." Chelsea snorted in return. "Is he your new boyfriend or something?" "No!" I nearly shrieked a little too defensively. "I mean… no. I've spoken to him like… twice in my life." The farmer smirked to herself. "Alright… he's in the barn back there attending to the animals. Of course he leaves me with the stupid weed pulling… this is a ridiculous occupation, Natalie."

I bent down next to her. "Then… why don't you get a new one?" Chelsea raised an eyebrow, still working at the ground. "Because this was the only one that the Community was really looking for. I can't imagine why anyone would actually do this voluntarily." Chelsea waved a handful of weeds in the direction where she said Mark was. "He, on the other hand, actually grew up on a farm. Likes attending to the animals. He's told me he spent all of his time with them when he was a boy. I guess that's why he's able to read emotions so well." "Wait… why did you not live on the farm, too?" "I… what?... Oh! No, no, no. We aren't siblings. That's just our cover for why we are living together. It's a heck of a lot better than saying we are married." "So… in that case, what are your real names?" Chelsea blinked a couple times, as if subtly motioning that it was a bad question. "I'm Chelsea. He's Mark." "Did you not… like… change it to avoid giving away your identity?" I asked with a tinge of fascination. Chelsea shook her head. "No. You only use first names on the Islands, so it's not likely that a background check would be run. I guess if they really suspected us, it wouldn't be too hard to figure out who we really are anyways. It's best to use our real names on this one. Based on the amount of time we've put into this case, the chances are that we'd accidently refer to the other by their name, which could be disastrous."

I was about to ask another question when Chelsea interrupted me. "You're here for Mark, aren't you? I'm trying to work right now. If you're really dying to know something, you can probably wait until later, can't you? Thank you."

Some people seem to get nicer as you spend more time with them… and then there are some that don't…

Chelsea must have been telling the truth about Mark's background. When I found him in the barn, he was on his knees staring at a sheep head on whispering something to it. It was somewhat strange, to say the least.

I didn't want to look rude by interrupting his "conversation", so I made a coughing sound. He jumped up, clearly embarrased.

"I...umm… Did you see that?" "Yeah." "I was afraid so. In case you were wondering, I thought it looked a little sick so I was giving it some comforting words. I don't think it is anything serious, thankfully." "… Sounds normal enough to me." Not really, though. I just wanted to make him feel better.

Mark nodded and gathered up some tools which he subsequently dropped into a bin in the corner of the barn. "Are you here for the same reason as last time?" I said I was, and in response he rubbed his hands together nervously and waved me to the door. "Alright. After you, then."

Inside the farmhouse, Mark pulled out a chair for me to sit in before moving towards the refrigerator to pour a glass of water.

"You know, I'm not really sure what else I can talk to you about." "Well, you left off last time guilting me about eating eggs." Mark sighed after he finished his first sip of water.

"I told you not to take it that way. I was just making a point. Even plants are alive, you know. In our current world, it takes the death of something to allow us humans to live. What I was saying is that people follow rules only to the extent that they want them to apply. People do the same thing on the Mainland. Different reasons than the eggs, generally, but the same idea."

A smirk crossed my face as I crossed my arms. "You have an optimistic view of humanity," I commented with a good dose of sarcasm. "People, at least I think, are flawed or corrupted or whatever you want to call it. From my experiences, the very first instinct for people is to serve themselves. I've seen it with criminals, I've seen it with friends, I've seen it with family, I've seen it with myself." I shook my head. "That's not always the case." "I didn't say that it is. Sometimes, people will do extraordinary things. Then again, if everyone is so naturally good, what would be so extraordinary about it? It's not that we can't, it's just that we have to make a conscious decision to do so most of the time."

I couldn't help but purse my lips. "I can't say I'm a dedicated follower or anything, but a lot of the stuff you've said sounds strangely contradictory to the teachings of the Harvest Goddess." Mark chuckled softly. "That's because it is. The 'Harvest Goddess' is no religion. It's a device used by the Community to make you feel better about yourself. It says that everyone is good, that everyone will go to Paradise. It downplays morals so it can give you 'freedom' to do whatever you want." "I didn't realize freedom was such a bad word." "It isn't. But it is misused in this context."

By this point, Mark had taken a seat across from me. "I can give you two definitions of freedom. One is that which the Islands practice. The main principle is that anything goes. We're all good and everyone is right all at once. I should be able to do what I want; I should be able to think what I want. Thankfully, the concept of this hasn't completely taken effect here, as the philosophy is bound by the idea of 'community'. We have to be able to live in harmony, and murder and theft doesn't allow that to function. At least most of the people here believe in at least a little bit of ethics, even though they probably can't give a good reason why. Once that goes, so will everything else."

I gave Mark a second to catch his breath. "And the other definition of yours?" "Freedom of the conscience. Is there really right and wrong, Natalie? Is there?" I tried answering, but all that came out was a jumbled mess. "Ok… let me simplify this. If I were to go over to your house and kill your whole family, would that be wrong?" "I'd probably track you down and rip your head off." "So yes." "Fine. I guess you can say that." "Now, if I were to hand over half my quota to you right now and let you use it as you wish… would that be a good thing?" I thought of Pierre and laughed to myself. "I guess that would depend on what your reason for giving it to me was." "Alright… ok, good. Now you are thinking. Let's think of a situation where someone would have nothing to gain. Ok. Say you were wrongly suspected of killing the Head of the Community, and I interceded and confessed to the crime. I get the Departure treatment, and nobody ever learns that I was innocent, not even you. Would that be an honorable thing for someone to do?"

I could picture in my mind my mother doing something similar for me. "It… yes. It would be… an incredible sacrifice." I apologize for sounding overly dramatic. I didn't do it on purpose. Blame Mark for my mushy responses.

"People would tell you that this is just a perceived notion that has developed over time due to the course of one's life. A cultural thing. And some of it probably is. But think for a second. Have you ever studied human history at all?" "Not really." "… Never mind then. Well, I can tell you that there are similar ideas of what is right and wrong that reoccur from people group to people group. There have been some certain differences, usually tied to religion in one way or another, but there are few people that would not be moved by the scene of that hypothetical story I gave you."

I took the opportunity to interrupt him. "But these 'morals' you give. The reason that you probably see them over and over again is because they are what work best for the survival of society, not because they are inherently right." "I couldn't agree more. But what you just assumed is that the sustainability of life is a good pursuit." "I… uhh… of course." "So we agree on this. Life is a good thing. Let me go further. Friendship is a good thing. Chasing honest goals is a good thing. Peace is a good thing. These principles have to be balanced with the other kind of freedom- that which allows you to do what you so desire. If you believe as I do that people aren't necessarily so good, one or the other has to be restricted. The Islands have tried to restrict the freedom of the conscience. The Mainland, at least historically, has done the opposite."

I did have one last objection. "I don't entirely agree with your accusations against the Community. People in power, like Regis, may be abusing their positions. But that is completely against the true ideals of the Community." Mark squinted as he thought of his response. "What is the 'Community' anyways? Is it representation of human nature? Well, I don't see a whole lot worth glorifying there. Millions upon millions have suffered or been killed because of the selfishness of others. No. I don't think that is what we are looking at. To you, it may just be another word for morals. That's fine. But I think that all the 'Community' really stands for is whatever the people in charge feel is convenient for them at the time. It's also a tool they use to make sure you can think anything you so wish… as long as it doesn't threaten them. There is no real freedom here. They'll let you wonder around in the little box they've raised your mind to conform to. Anything outside of that is censured. Why is talking against the Community so bad, so dangerous? Because people like Regis or Kirk feel that you are threatening their status in doing so."

Mark has a tricky way of arguing. He gets his message across to you while making you feel like you were really on his side all along. Few times did he criticize what I personally believe. He only acted as if he was clearing my perception of it. As if I really knew deep down… but now I'm starting to sound like Mark himself.

I must have been thinking through this for quite some time because Mark finally shook me to reality. There was a touch of amusement in his voice. "Have I given you another headache?" I brushed him off. "Of course not. Don't treat me like a child. I've already come to a conclusion." "And…?" "Well, there's only one way that I won't turn all of you losers in to Regis." Mark bit his lip anxiously. "What is it, then?" he asked with resignation.

"You better make sure I'm invited to all of your little plotting meetings. And you better get your act together and start working on the task you came here for."

I've never seen anyone smile as brightly as I did at that moment.

Mark called over Chelsea from her work and told her to go fetch Lily and Vaughn. When everyone was assembled, Mark informed the others that I was now part of the group. I was hoping for some cheers and some pats on the back, but all I got was a head nod by Lily and an 'ok' from Vaughn. Apparently they didn't think I was really that valuable of an asset. Sometimes I think these snobs believe they know a lot more than I do.

Vaughn wanted a conversation with Chelsea in private while Lily eventually went back to work, leaving me with Mark. He offered to make me an early supper, but I couldn't help but refuse, so I sat there watching him eat alone. It appeared to be making him uncomfortable, and he accordingly sped up his pace at eating his sandwich.

Eventually, the silence got the better of him. "Why the heck are you just staring at me like that?" "Sorry. It's just that I think I'll be paying for my own food for awhile. No offense to you. I'm sure you can make a mean sandwich." "Not really. Chelsea usually does the cooking."

Mark had finally given me the opportunity I had been waiting for. "Why didn't you just come here alone? You know, instead of having to drag her along?" Mark dropped his meal onto his plate and wiped his mouth using a napkin. "It's the other way around. I'm sort of her understudy, really. I'm here for the experience. She's the team leader." "Seriously? All I've really seen her do is moan, whine, and complain." Mark lowered his head and shook it gently. "Chelsea's been working in the agency several years longer than I have. I don't think she was always the way she may seem now at times. She's been through a lot. She's lost more than one friend. It's a stressful, dangerous job. I assure you, Chelsea's twice the person and twice the operative that I am. I couldn't do this job without her."

I shook my head. "Why are you always so hard on yourself?" Mark shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying to be honest." In my opinion, it was less honesty and more… sissy. "Mark… you're smart and kind and attr-… I'm just saying that you shouldn't talk like my brother does. You're far above that." Mark smiled a little, but I suspect it had less to do with the compliments I gave and more to do with my stumbling of words. "Let me put my plate up and let's go outside. Sound good?" I nodded in reply.

It was a little cold outside, but it helped me realize that all of my muscles were contracted with stress. I took a deep breath of the night air as I leaned against the house's exterior. Mark mimicked my position.

"Mark?" I started. "Yes?" "What is it like on the Mainland? I mean… how different is it from here?" I hoped that I could get a better response from him than I did from Pierre. Mark looked up at the stars. "It's similar to this place in some ways. Even if we pull this off, a lot of your culture will still be the same. Chelsea and I can't change that, and we shouldn't try to. But you'll find that people will have new responsibilities. Life isn't perfect there either. But I think you will like the fact that success is based more on skill than position, or that rewards come by effort as opposed to entitlement. There are problems, sure, but at least we haven't legally bound ourselves to them." Your culture. It's easy to forget that Mark isn't really one of us. It made me think…

"Mark… when you're done here, what happens next?" Mark began to answer but closed his mouth before he could finish the first word. He was probably aware that I was hoping for a certain answer.

"I… well, I should be here for at least a little bit afterwards to tie up loose ends. But… the chances are yes, Natalie… I'll be going home. We've met only because of strange circumstances. I have a job I have to return to."

I nodded my head as I situated my hands in my front pockets. "Well, I need to get home now. Mother will be wondering where I've been before too long. I'll see you again as soon as I can. No coming up with any brilliant ideas without my approval, ok?" "Nata-… Alright, fine. I'll try to contact you about when I think something interesting will be discussed." "It's a plan."

I really wasn't worried about my mother or anyone else asking where I was. Telling them I went on a walk and talked with some friends would suffice. Primarily, Mark was making me uncomfortable. I didn't really want him to go anywhere. Sure, he has been very interesting to talk to. But I think it's more than that. I don't necessarily "like" him. He's too wishy-washy for that. But he does have a sense of just… goodness… that has to be admired. He's obviously not stupid or lazy either, like most people I know. The truth is, I don't really know what I think about him… or anyone else on the Islands, for that matter. The fallout with Pierre makes trusting anyone all the more difficult, considering he was closer to me than my own family. Pierre… I'm still trying to decide whether or not to forgive him. I've already done so once, and that was a stretch of decision making as it was. But sometimes I can be a little explosive, and the visualization of Pierre's downcast face makes me shiver the more I think about it…

The only sure thing to do is to work as hard as possible in the coming days. With a little speed, maybe I can make sure the four rebels don't go off doing anything too exciting without me.


	8. Chapter 8: The Snare

**Chapter 8- The Snare**

Just outside of our house grows a nice, thick bush. This is where Vaughn (who I met while dropping off the shipping at Kirk's boat) informed me that either Mark or Chelsea would leave daily reports of what was happening. It was a good location. It was close enough to our house that I could easily check it without taking up too much time, while it was safe from anyone in my family accidently discovering it.

I had previously suggested taking over Gramps's job of gathering people's products, which would really simplify things, but he gave an answer along the lines that he believes in keeping tradition. I would have asked mother, but I know that Gramps would have convinced her to respond to me in the same way.

My participation with the others is difficult to fit in. I could make some time, sure. But leaving work time usually requires giving the adults a good reason for why I'm leaving, and I've decided that keeping my relationship with the four secret is the safest thing to do. Suddenly becoming friends with people I seemingly hardly know could lead to some sensitive questions. It made me wonder if the people that are most likely to cause trouble in the Community are given the longest work hours for this very reason.

Well, I decided to play along with the plan regarding the bush. Everyday, I would find a slip of paper embedded in the leaves, which I would promptly wad up and throw into the ocean once finished with it.

The arrangement worked marvelously the first several days, but I was quickly getting fed up with the messages. Every day was the same: "No news here." I received this not once, not twice, but six times consecutive times. On the seventh occasion, I finally scrawled back a message of my own: "WELL MAKE SOME" and stuffed the parchment back into the foliage.

My response clearly prompted some sort of action, because the next day I found the old slip replaced with a new one reading: "make time six o'clock tomorrow, ran. isl."

Mother and Gramps were not home at the appointed time, so I reluctantly had to tell Elliot that I was leaving. Getting Elliot to let me go was a simple matter, but I'd rather have the subject sorted out with the more important members of the family before leaving instead of having to make an excuse later on- just in case for some reason they didn't want me to go anywhere. Nothing could be done about it, though. Missing the meeting would not look very good considering I don't think the others really trust me to begin with.

When I opened the door to Mark and Chelsea's house, three of the four glared at me with contempt. Chelsea shook her head. "You call for this thing out of our schedule, and you don't even bother to show up on time." "Nice to see you too, Chelsea," I muttered in response as I waved Mark out of his chair, as there were only four. "And who says I'm late, anyways?"

"The clock," answered Vaughn in a simple tone while he pointed at the round object in corner of the room. I snorted in response. "Two minutes. Well, I'm just so sorry. And last time I checked, Chelsea, this is your real reason for being here, so I don't need to hear you complaining about how I'm taking away from your time, when it's me and Vaughn and Lily that are really being imposed on."

I could tell that relations between Chelsea and I were not improving anytime soon. The other three seemingly shied away from our heated discussion.

"You're right, Natalie… I'm here to work. Not deal with this irrelevant little pow wow you've put together… as if you somehow actually know how to handle this situation!"

I stood up in response. "You're right! I don't know what other people are up to! But it's pretty clear what is going on here with you! You're too scared, too worried about making a mistake that you have done absolutely nothing here worth of value! You are probably the worst agent I've ever seen." "Yeah, like you've seen a whole lot of us, Ms. Cavewoman! You don't even know what a telephone is, let alone a wh-." "-Get off her back, Chelsea." It was Lily, who I initially thought had enough of the arguing. In reality, she was just feeling left out. "Natalie's not entirely wrong, you know. Do you have any idea how much weight I had to throw around to make sure that I had the best agent possible for my cousin? And this is what they have to offer? I understand some of the dilemmas this arrangement has created, but y-." "- Yeah, yeah… I've done what I can to keep us all alive. Is there anything wrong with that? What do you say, Mark?" "I… of course not. Chelsea is right." "Please," I spat back. "He's just saying that because he's even more spineless than you are. I bet Vaughn is with us, right? What is your opinion, Vaughn?"

"My opinion?" His voice strangely managed to be both gruff and amused at the same time. "My opinion? Since when did anyone care about my opinion? I've just always been the guy that somehow got involved in this for no-." "Well, I'm asking it for you now, boat boy." "Cowboy." Vaughn for some reason has a liking for the title of "cowboy", though only infrequently have I heard of him buying or selling cows on the Mainland. "Whatever. Just answer my question… cowboy." "Personally, my wish is that everyone would just shut up."

This only set the temporarily subsiding conflict back into full motion. Chelsea opened up first.

"You never were of much use, Vaughn! It's a pity that Lily ever told you anything. The few times you open your mouth is to spew out ha-." "By the way Chelsea," I started, "we wouldn't even be here at all without me. As I remember it, you were complaining about group activity, so stop acting like everyone but you is the problem!" "Ohh, I'm the problem now. I came all the way over here to mess with you little people jus-." "- That's not what I meant and you know it!"

For whatever reason, this comment resulted in an ensuing silence. Both Vaughn and Lily had been arguing while I was taking shots at Chelsea, but I think I had managed to raise my voice a notch above all the others. Everyone looked at me until Mark broke out in laughter, so he in turn bore the confused gazes of the others.

"What a lovely group of people we've managed to round up. I didn't know there were even this many people in all of the islands that are so disagreeable." "You're not helping either, o wise one," returned Chelsea. I think Vaughn and Lily agreed. I sure did.

"Alright," Mark began in defense. "Let's think of a nice, good answer. Let's use some of the Community's philosophy for once- we're all right. Natalie and Lily are right that we ought to be moving plans along. Chelsea is correct in exercising caution. I think we can succeed in doing both. Vaughn… yeah… I guess he is also free to voice displeasure… though it wasn't really helping…"

Vaughn did not look satisfied with Mark's reconciliation, but I thought it was rather amusing to watch his expression. It was, however, enough to restore order. All of us gradually flopped back down onto our empty seats, while Mark leaned against the kitchenette counter.

"This is good," began Chelsea. "I'm open to suggestions. You're the most impatient of us, Natalie, so you get to go first." "Well… I'm not really a good person to ask. Can you explain to me again why you haven't busted them already?" Chelsea rubbed her eyes as if talking with me was exhausting. "Because we don't entirely know who 'them' is and because we need to get evidence of 'them' doing something illegal. Hypotheses are not enough." I shrugged. "Ok… then catch them doing something illegal. Then maybe we can ask whoever it is we find if anyone else is in on this."

I thought I was bringing up some really good ideas, but all four looked almost embarrassed… for my own sake. I turned red. "It seems straightforward to me." "It's not," said Vaughn, in a surprising moment of compassion. I think he wanted to try helping my case. "If we don't know what illicit activity is going to be performed, we probably won't just happen upon it. It needs to be set up… planned by us. Now, do you think there is anything we can do with that?" "I… ok. I know. We intentionally have one of us receive the Departure. Another hides on the boat on the day that the event goes down, and just when Kirk is going to do the deed, we… we…" Even I knew it was a stupid idea this time. There's no place to hide on Kirk's boat, and someone would realize that one of us was missing at the docks. But I was beginning to dive deeper and deeper.

"We need to trick them into doing something that they can't help but do. 'Now,' you ask, 'what would that be?' Well, they will react when they feel threatened." Mark looked down at me with a hint of pride in his eyes. I probably sounded very similar to what he told me on that second day of discussion. It encouraged me to continue. "They'll feel threatened when something is said or happens that suggests that something is above their system of beliefs… their government. When they feel the stability of the government is in danger, they'll fight back for sure."

Mark took over for me when he saw that I was stuck on what to say next. "What Natalie is saying is that we need to come up with something that we can glorify over the state and watch those ultimately behind this try to eliminate it. Think of home… what is often seen as superior to the government?" "… Love?" tried Vaughn. Lily answered as if there was only one obvious answer: "Money." But it was Chelsea who came up with the word that they were all looking for.

"Religion," she said. "Many would stay loyal to their religion before their country." Lily seemed impressed with Chelsea's remark, but Vaughn shook his head. "Won't work. They'd just kick us off." "Not if it's more than one person," countered Chelsea. "Say we have several different people call for revival. It would really upset people if more than just one of us got the Departure… too much so. They wouldn't risk stirring rebellion, and religion could theoretically continue to be a problem in the future. No, they would just eliminate the Harvest Goddess… probably destructively. They wouldn't do it outright, because that could expose who they are. They would probably just burn down the church without warning and everyone would think it's a sign from the cosmos… or whatever these people believe in… that the Harvest Goddess is a fraud."

Everyone appeared to like the idea outside of the ever hesitant Mark. "The odds that they would do so are rather slim and even slimmer that we can figure out who called for the hit."

Sometimes, I feel that it is my job to help out Mark… almost as if he's a child that needs guidance. He probably wouldn't appreciate me saying that, but that's the truth of it. "They would do it at night, just to be sure that no one sees them. It also, however, allows us to hide out there unseen, too." "And why would we be there at night?" persisted Mark. Lily answered this question. "Say we ask to stay the night at the church afterward… you know… to be spiritual or something?" Mark shook his head. "They would just wait until after we go back home. They wouldn't risk doing it with extra people around."

Mark always has to be the pessimist. But he did have a point. We can't get there without Kirk knowing, as he runs the boat. Unless…

It was inevitable that someone would suggest it- it was only a question of who. It turned out to be Vaughn. "We swim."

It was only logical, but it was impossible for me not to object. "I don't really swim that often." "Then we can leave you," said Chelsea casually. "We don't all have to be there." More like she doesn't want me to be there. "Don't fret about it, Natalie," added Lily, trying to help me feel better. "I think I'll have to pass on this one, too."

Mark was still arguing that we shouldn't even go. "It seems like an awful lot of work for an arson charge." "You don't get it, do you, Mark?" answered his partner. "It's not about the arson charge itself. It's a step to help convince the agency to investigate further into these islands. Maybe even the disappearances. Plus, it's better than nothing. Natalie's right."

That was the first, and probably the last time I would ever hear that. I would have cherished the moment had I not realized that Vaughn was smiling smugly.

"What's your problem?" "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about you. Scared of the water, eh?" "No!" I was serious. I was not scared of the water… "Scared of swimming with other people?" That pretty much summed it up. "Not exactly… I… it just-." "Don't get upset. I was just asking. No big deal."

People seeing you with only a scrap of clothing on is embarrassing, but people thinking you are a wimp is even more so. "I'm going to go, so just shut u-."

"Natalie! That is a very rude thing to say!" All of us were startled by the sudden entrance of my mother, with Gramps shortly behind. Needless to say, it was a surprise.

"Umm… mother!" I pasted on a fake smile. "What are you doing here…?" "I'm here for today's shipment. I admit that I'm a little confused as to why you are, though."

I've prepared many lies in my life, but I wasn't ready for this one. My momentary pause was bad enough as it was, so I just gave the first answer that came to mind.

"Mark… yeah, he's my boyfriend." I reached over and squeezed his hand to try to be convincing. I regretted my answer as soon as I said it. Both my mother and Gramps were silent. Gramps finally mumbled out a response. "… You… like people?"

What an idiot. Way to make the situation all the more uncomfortable, Taro. "I… yes, I like people! Especially, err… Mark. He's really cool." At least my mother made a reasonable query. "Why… have you not told me before?" "We, uhh, decided that we would be boyfriends-… a couple, like… today. This afternoon, to be exact."

They still didn't believe me. "And what are Lily and Vaughn doing here?" asked my mother. "… Yep. They're in a relationship, too." "… At Mark and Chelsea's ranch?" I probably should have left someone else to do the speaking. I had dug us into quite a hole. "Chelsea is also dating Vaughn… you know, like a love triangle thing, where the girls duke it out. But they're still friendly to each other, right?" Chelsea shook her head slowly while Lily opened her mouth nervously.

"…Vaughn… likes people?" Poor Gramps was ten minutes behind the conversation. Vaughn looked down to hide whatever it was he felt obligated to mumble. I still had made little progress with either of the surprise visitors.

"I just don't understand, Natalie… It doesn't make any sense." "Are you here to judge me, mom?" "No! It's jus-." "You don't like Mark. How nice of you to say so in front of him. Would you like to repeat that? He's probably going to be my future husband. Just say what you like." It was enough to get her to stop talking. She gave her apologies and Mark took the two of them outside to get whatever the shipping was. That left me with Chelsea, Lily, and Vaughn.

Chelsea chuckled to herself in spite of the situation. "Smooth recovery, flamingo hair." "Really?" "No. I can think of at least one hundred better responses to give there." "Well, I didn't hear any of them!" Chelsea waved me off. "Hey, Felicia didn't ask me. It could have been worse, I guess. I could be Mark. He'll be stuck with being around you for awhile. At least Vaughn doesn't talk nearly as much." Vaughn glared at her, but it only encouraged her all the more. In the meantime, I saw Mark slowly opening the door to come back inside from the corner of my eye.

"Well, I guess you finally got what you wanted all along," added Chelsea, loud enough that Mark could hear. It was pretty obvious what she was trying to imply. I shook my head vehemently at Mark, who at least acted like he believed me.

"I don't think that is the case, Chelsea. It's my fault, really. I should have known that they were scheduled to come by. So… I'm sorry if things turn a little awkward between us, Natalie."

Always kind Mark to the rescue. Only, things were awkward enough beforehand as it was.

"Stop pandering," I nearly scolded. "I screwed up. That's all there is. I can probably keep a lid on this... trust me. I just hope it's not all for nothing."

For once, Chelsea actually made the right response. She jumped up from her chair, grabbed a pen and a journal, and sat back down while putting on a pair of reading glasses. Everyone gathered around where they could see what she was about to do.

"Well, I think I can ease that worry. We've gotten together some good ideas… they just need to be organized. I've been working out a plan, and I think it will work."


	9. Chapter 9: Impromptu

**Author's Note:** Longest chapter yet! Not intentionally, of course. As a forewarning, there is a large amount of dialogue, and the content may sound more controversial than I really intend it to be. The key is to remember who your narrator is. Can you trust this source as accurate? I don't know.

If dialogue bores you, then take heart! Relief is soon in coming. The story picks back up after this chapter.

Thanks for making it this far, or if you are just doing what I do so often- skip around to chapters that sound interesting!

* * *

**Chapter 9- Impromptu**

I've made it clear before that I'm not particularly religious, which gave me concerns about whether or not I could be convincing in my role. I managed to ease my worries at least a little bit by telling myself that this is what I've been waiting for for a long time.

Services are held at the church on a daily basis at ten in the morning. Though my family is usually working during that time, the services have a pretty solid following. Generally Nathan or Alisa will speak, but occasionally others will come forward. Lily, Vaughn, and I asked Nathan if we could have this opportunity the following morning. He said that he was delighted to have us come.

Telling my family about this was about as awkward as I anticipated. Espcially when I told them that I wanted to stay over at the ranch that night. They acted supportive, as usual, but it was obvious that they thought they hardly knew me anymore. I can't blame them, since I've been asking myself the same question. To my delight, Gramps declared that they would not be able to attend the service in order to make up for my absence. I'd just have to discuss what went on with them later on. Or not.

True to his role as my new (and first) boyfriend, Mark knocked on our door that morning and led me by the arm to his house (much to the visible discomfort of Elliot). The others were already there waiting for Mark to return with me. Lily was quietly drinking a glass of water, perhaps to calm her nerves. Vaughn's anxiety was more obvious. He sat hunched at the table, staring with wide eyes at the shaking piece of paper in his hands. Chelsea, who sat next to him, shook her head.

"You really need to calm down, Vaughn." "I'm… not going to do it…"

Chelsea smirked a bit. "Yes, you are." "… I can't…. I won't. I will not." "You don't really have an option."

Vaughn stood up and briskly moved to the window. He faced it with his arms crossed. "Wrong. I do have a choice. I'm a volunteer. Why don't you do it? Are you too important to put yourself in danger by doing this? I could get killed if I don't sound convincing!"

I was actually beginning to come to terms with this speech thing until Vaughn reminded me of that. I looked at the speech that Chelsea had written which I had been studying in private during the last couple of days. I was going to sound like an idiot. It wasn't that it was bad. It just wasn't me that was speaking. What would I sound like speaking? I don't really do it that often…

Surprisingly, though, I decided not to start yelling at Chelsea. I was worn out from that. Instead, I felt sympathy for Vaughn. I joined him in looking outside at the thin dew that covered the grass and crops.

"Vaughn… how do you feel about getting this job done? You know, what are your emotions towards that right now?" Vaughn looked sideways at me. "I have to work with that creep Kirk… every… single… day. I have to speak to him, live with him, laugh with him… all the while knowing what horrible things he has done… How would you feel?" He was nearly whispering, but he spoke with gravity. For a moment, I forgot about everyone else in the room. I don't know if they were eavesdropping or not. Probably so, if I had to guess. I didn't really care, though.

"You're right," I said, "You have even more reasons than myself as to why you should be ready for this moment. You are not going to do this because you want to. You're going to do it not because of Chelsea. You are going to do this because you have to."

That was probably the most motivational thing I had said in my entire life up to that point. I must admit that it was pretty impressive. I was worried that I had mustered up all of the day's awesomeness, but at least it did the trick. Vaughn frowned a little, but he pushed himself off of the wall and returned to the table.

Mark shook my by the shoulder gently when I returned to my seat. "You're ready for this, right? We're leaving in a couple minutes." I nodded a little hesitantly. "I'll survive. Most likely."

It relieved a little pressure knowing that Lily would be up first. Hopefully she would do well enough that people wouldn't even remember my little speech stuffed in the middle of the service. That was probably asking too much, though.

On the boat ride over, I felt my body begin to shake with increasing intensity. I would have told Mark that I decided to not do it, but it was too late for that. I had to come up with a new method of keeping myself calm- I just told myself that, however bad it may be, I would be back at the ranch relaxing an hour from then. Just an hour.

The church was pretty crowded. It took me a moment to figure out why. I've been in my own little world for a while now, but most people are still dealing with the death of Charlie and the Departure of Sabrina. I am too, of course, but I've had other things to keep me distracted. I did feel a little embarrassed that I had almost forgot about them for a moment.

Chen was sitting in the back corner with Julia and Mirabelle comforting him. Carol, Nick, and Will sat together. Regis was directly in front of those three, with Gannon and Eliza nearby. Lanna, Denny, and Pierre came as a group. I couldn't help but notice that the three looked a little too close. Looks like Pierre didn't take long to find a new girlfriend. Not that I care.

Alisa escorted Vaughn, Lily, and I to a back room while Mark and Chelsea took a seat on the front pew. Mark gave me a thumbs up before the door closed us off from the rest of society. The small room we entered was not much larger than a closet, and its barren wooden walls added to the tense atmosphere that was already present.

Alisa motioned for us to sit down before she told us what to expect while we waited. "Now, listen closely. I'll motion when it's time for you to go out. You'll probably hear when Nathan calls for you anyways. You're first, right, Lily?" Lily nodded her head. "Well," Alisa continued, "I wish you good luck. Don't be nervous. The Harvest Goddess will give you the words you need."

Alisa was right. Not about the Harvest Goddess giving us words, of course, but that I could pick up quite a bit of what Nathan was saying.

"… Now, today, we have three very special guests who… they feel that they have some important messages that they wish… so give them your best attention. I know that you will enjoy what they have to say… we are blessed by the Harvest Goddess to have… let's have a moment of prayer for them as they prepare for… now, welcome our first speaker."

I nodded to Lily before Alisa even did. Lily cleared her throat as the priestess opened the door. When she closed it again, I shuffled the seat I was sitting in a little closer to the door to try picking up everything that Lily said. There was a good ten seconds of clapping before Lily began to speak.

"… I, well… I felt that I needed to come speak to you about something. It's not about you or what you have done. I've felt convicted of my own actions. Tragedy, in its own way, is not always just a bad thing. Sad, yes, but there can be positive things to take away from them. That is the case with me. In the past, I've tried to rely on two things- myself and my possessions. That's all. But with what has happened, I've been redrawn to the Harvest Goddess. Not because I wanted to, but because she wanted me to. I'm grateful for this. Seeing what has happened, I've realized that on my own, my ending is not going to be far different from that of innocent little Charlie. We all die. That's life. And no amount of money is going to stop that."

Lily took a moment for a dramatic pause.

"There is only one thing that can give us permanent life, and that is the Harvest Goddess. I don't need money. She has already decided to give us life. But I think that I might not be the only one who has slipped away from that understanding. And I think that if we are going to remain happy, we need to be reminded of that."

There were a few quiet remarks exchanged that I couldn't make out before a round of clapping. I guess that means they liked it. Or they were clapping that it was over with. I'm not used to this stuff, so I was deeply pondering this question when Alisa gently tapped me on the shoulder.

"Natalie… it's your turn." I hopped right up out of surprise and walked out to the main chapel before I could have any second thoughts. The podium that I was supposed to stand at was at the far corner of the room rather than being front and center. I was sort of relieved by that. It made me feel that if I was too embarrassing, I could just crawl up where no one could see me.

I hobbled a bit as I started to move toward it, and Nathan rushed over to help me balance. A couple of people chuckled after I waved to the congregation that I was fine.

With Nathan's help, I was able to reach the podium and set my speech down. I panicked when I abruptly realized that I couldn't remember it anymore. It was supposed to be used only as a reference if I needed it, but I had to pick it up and hold it to the light.

"I…" My voice croaked as I started. Chelsea buried her face in her hands.

What I did next was probably the best response I could have made, though. Leaving the podium, I took a seat on the single stair that lead up to the altar. I figured that if I could lounge a little, I could control my voice.

"… I hope that this doesn't look too disrespectful, Nathan." There was more laughing. Nathan said that it was fine.

"Good. Because I don't think it would have made a difference either way." Even I was a little amused with myself that time. I had to wait a moment has everyone calmed down from my awe-inspiring jokes.

But it was time to actually say something of relevance. As I took another look at the speech, I shook my head and tossed it aside.

"I planned out what I thought was a really good speech, but as I've never actually done this, I didn't realize that reading off of some paper could be so difficult."

There would have been more laughing, but I managed to cut most of it off. At that rate, nobody was going to take me seriously.

"I mean, really. I haven't even listened to many services before. While Lily might say that she needed to return to the Harvest Goddess, I can't say I've ever actually believed at all."

I had everyone's attention. "Truly, I've never had any kind of faith. I wouldn't even say that I believed in myself. My thoughts were on how to finish the day… plain and simple. If you asked me who I really was, I couldn't have given an answer.

"That's the way I've treated my life. Like I didn't have anything to live up to, because I wasn't really much of anything at all. I could be mean and not even care. It didn't matter. I wasn't being mean; I was just making some sort of irrelevant action.

"But it was when Charlie died that I began to see some of the flaws in my thinking. I realized that I really did care about something… Charlie's life. I… really, deep down inside me… I was sad. It was a real emotion, not an irrelevant action. And I saw how others, like Chen, truly loved him. And it made me think of how the boy in life really cared for others, too.

"This bore a question: why? Why do people care? And then I remembered what I've heard many times from my friends and family before. The Harvest Goddess loves us all. And we are in many ways a mirror of her. I realized that if I believed that there was love, there had to be the Harvest Goddess. Otherwise, it would nothing at all. It gave me faith. Faith… for the first time in my life."

I felt my eyes begin to water a little. Perhaps I was taking this a little too seriously. I knew it was visible to everyone there, which would make it all the more dramatic, but I knew that it might earn me some ridicule from Chelsea as well.

"And I hope that you have this same faith. Faith… that we will one day come to a place where there is no pain. Where we will see those we love… like Charlie. Or those we wished we could have known… like my father… I… yes, that's all I have."

I wiped away the moisture on my face as Nathan guided me to a seat next to Mark, who wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I knew I had done well when I saw the expressions of those present. A couple of them were crying as well. Yet there was still one more guest to go.

We probably shouldn't have left Vaughn to be the grand finale, but we didn't want to start on a bad note, either. Really, Mark or Chelsea should have just taken his spot. But they made up too many excuses as to why they shouldn't do it.

For the sake of politeness, I won't go into the details of Vaughn's entrance, but I can tell you that it was far worse than my own. He did manage to start turning things around when he finally began to speak. He too had tossed his notes onto the floor.

"… I know Natalie mentioned how she came to see the Harvest Goddess because she saw the love that others have shown. That might be true, but I want to tell you a different story. Charlie was not our only recent loss… Sabrina… she too is gone."

Bonus points to Vaughn for being brave. Lily and I had left that detail out of our speeches quite deliberately. I figured it was a subject best ignored. I'd prefer not to sound like a traitor. But Vaughn obviously didn't care.

"I'm not trying to justify what she did… Betraying the Community is one of the highest of all sins. But the Harvest Goddess still loves the worst of us, and we should do the same. Not spare her the punishment, but at least remember to respect her as a person. We've set some really good guidelines about love and compassion. And I think it is time that we all start living them out. Do you always respect the opinion of a friend, or a parent, or a child?"

No, no, no. I'm culpable of all three. I can't say that I care, but a lot of the others at the service lowered their gaze in guilt.

"Do you always set aside your own desires for the greater good of the Community?" By this point, a huge portion of those present were outright weeping.

"These are just a couple of things. There are issues in each and every one of your lives that I probably don't even know that you are dealing with. But you do. And I think it's time that we lay them down to the Harvest Goddess."

It was short and to the point- maybe even a little hostile. I think I can go for that. Vaughn had already joined us on the front pew for at least three minutes before Nathan could get those in attendance calmed down enough to make a closing address.

"Friends, friends… I know that we have heard a very powerful and very inspiring message today. It is probably best that we get back to work now. But I hope that whoever heard this would not leave it at the door, but store it in your hearts. May the Harvest Goddess bless you. Have a good day."

Lily, Vaughn, and I stood just outside of the church doors, where those leaving could have a word with us if they so desired. Some went to talk with one of the other two, but I did get three who came to me.

The first was Pierre, who held out his arm. I eyed it suspiciously before shaking it.

"You did well today, Natalie. Really." It was all he said. I think a part of him wanted to continue, but he dejectedly turned around with his head hung low. He sounded rather dejected when he spoke.

I was a little surprised that Will came by afterwards, as I don't talk to him often. He shook my hand as well, which was a good opportunity to get rid of that just-touched-by-Pierre feeling.

"That was a very interesting speech," he began with a smile on his face. "I can't say I've heard anything like that service since I first came here. Did you three plan on doing that together, or was it just by coincidence that you prepared that at the same time as the others?"

My first reaction was to go on the defensive, but I realized that he was just being curious before I did anything too stupid.

"Just by coincidence in that we didn't come together and decide that we would do it. Though it shouldn't come as a surprise considering what has occurred as of late." Will nodded. "Of course. I was just wondering. Good job today."

The last was the least surprising- Lanna. She gave me a hug after she was finished ministering to Vaughn and Lily. It was a little awkward, as usual.

"That was inspiring, Natalie. I feel that I could lift off from the ground and fly now. I never knew that you were capable of such deep thought. I would be delighted to have you come to my dwelling at some point so we can discuss further, if you would like."

Well… ok. "Sure. Sounds like a good idea."

At this response, Lanna gave me another hug before reentering the chapel. I guess it was her "meditation hour". As she, Nathan, and Alisa were inside the church, our party remained outdoors. Mark and Chelsea had waited off to the side until everyone else left on Kirk's boat before leading us for a stroll towards the beach.

Lily was quick to speak. "I must apologize… I ignored the speech you had given me on the notes." Vaughn and I immediately admitted that we had done the same.

To my surprise, Chelsea just shrugged. "Obviously. You don't need to tell me. But you don't have to cry for forgiveness. I wanted you to come up with this on your own. That's the only way that it could be really be convincing. Those notes were there just in case you had nothing better to say."

I guess Chelsea isn't completely useless after all. That might have actually helped me like her had I not noticed a tinge of I-planned-that-all-along arrogance to her tone. But maybe I'm just making that up.

As usual, Mark decided that he had to end our little party. "You all did very well. But we should probably catch a boat to the farm pretty soon. We need to start getting things ready for tonight. Standing around here won't do us any good."

Everyone began the short walk towards the dock, but I couldn't resist the urge to look into something. I nudged Mark's shoulder.

"I'll be there soon enough. But I want to talk with Lanna about something." Mark shrugged. "Alright. Just don't be loitering around afterwards."

Lanna was just where I had left her- sitting on one of the pews with her legs crossed. I must confess that I've been a little misleading. I still do care about Pierre- at least a little. I know it's just weakness on my part, but I couldn't help myself.

Lanna must have sensed my presence as I approached, as she motioned me to sit next to her without turning. More disturbingly, she knew who I was.

"What is it that you wish to know, Natalie?" It was somewhat creepy, as she did not open her eyes or turn when she spoke. "… I… I was curious about Pierre. Are you and him …dating or something?"

Lanna opened her eyes this time. "Dating? No. But he does spend the night at my house occasionally."

I had some images of what that meant, and none of them were pleasant. "He… stays… the night?" "Don't be surprised, Natalie. Denny often does the same thing." "But… that's just strange." "I do not think so. It's progressive. Marriage is becoming obsolete, Natalie. It's too restricting for today's world, in many ways. The same thing is happening on the Mainland. We can all be in a relationship together. Do you understand what I mean?"

I understood what she meant, but that didn't mean that I liked it. "… Pierre. I don't understand. He always wanted to be with me."

Lanna put a hand on my shoulder. "And he still does. He misses you. You were always his favorite. As I think he put it, 'You were the sweetest fruit of the island.' But that doesn't mean that you are the only fruit. Did he ever actually suggest that the two of you might be married someday?" I would have liked to spit back that he did, but Lanna was right. Right on.

My companion must have noticed that I was rather upset. She gave me the third hug of the day, which I would have pulled away from, but I was too busy thinking about other things.

"Natalie… He still loves you. I think it would be best if you spoke with him. It's probably not a good thing to be jealous. You know, you can come over, too, if you like."

"… Have a good day, Lanna." She sighed a little as she responded. "And the best to you, Natalie."

Wrong. That was the only word that could describe my thoughts as I left that church. I had difficulty in even making any goodbye after what she had said. It was just too… wrong.

As for Pierre, I was rather upset with him. Nothing new there. But at the same time, I at least now understand just what it is that he's basing his decisions around. In a sick way, I almost sympathized with him having such a corrupted vision. But that might be arrogance.

I made sure to displace myself from that bench where Lanna sat as quickly as possible.


	10. Chapter 10: The Impulse

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the long wait! I've just been so busy, so don't be suprised when it takes forever for me to upload again. But hopefully the wait is worth it- the chapter is incredibly long. Actually, its too long, but it was hard to split up the material. I think I did a pretty good job of keeping it pretty much to the point to make up for it. Even so, this will hopefully be the longest installment as it does start the transition to what should be the final events of the story. So, please comment on thoughts or mistakes! Thanks as always!

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**Chapter 10- The Impulse**

As I have previously mentioned, Lily had decided that she did not intent on joining us on our next mission, if you can call it that. In spite of this, Mark and Chelsea did not want having her go to waste. Therefore, they gave Lily a list of signals that she could make using a flashlight so she could communicate with us if the situation called for it. I never actually got the opportunity to see the key, so I would not have known the meaning of anything that she might have sent.

Though I had reservations, I had already agreed to join the others in the ocean swim, and I wasn't going to back down on my word. I went home before heading to the ranch so I could grab the clothes that I would need. I laid clothing for the next day in one of our cardboard boxes and changed into my swimsuit. By swimsuit, I mean shorts and a cheap t-shirt. Hey, it was pretty ambitious of me. I managed to get in and out of the house without saying anything, as mother and Gramps were out, and I just ignored anything that Elliot may have said.

As Mark and Chelsea prepared the gear for the trip, I sat in silence with Vaughn. By the time the others were finished with preparations, Vaughn and I had developed our own board game involving napkins, pens, and some fancy belt of Mark's. I'd tell you the details, but they really aren't that exciting.

I thought I had managed to go all that time without being bothered. Apparently, though, the only reason that no one said anything yet was because they never imagined that I would have gone in the water with what I was wearing.

Both the agents had a backpack strapped on, and Chelsea had given Vaughn a longer boxy container made up of a similar material as the backpacks that could be held around his shoulder. That's when she turned from the kitchen counter to hand me a pair of binoculars to throw around my neck. She hesitated.

"… This would probably be a good time to change."

She got the gist when I failed to respond with anything outside of a grimace. She in turn smirked a bit pretentiously and gave Mark a nudge so he would turn and see.

"What are the chances that we can save her before she hits rock bottom in that getup?"

Getup. That's what a little decency gets you. Alright, none of the others were indecent. But I'd prefer to not go into details of the other three's apparel. It could have been worse, but I will never be caught looking like that.

Mark shrugged. "It's her choice. I'm sure she will be alright in calm waters, right, Natalie?" I nodded. That's probably how someone should respond when on the job. Chelsea just acts like everything is a game.

"Alright," Chelsea said with some touch of annoyance. "If you insist, I can't stop you. But, unfortunately, it is my job to keep you alive… Just turn back if it gets too difficult. I would hate for you to get too much water in that ball of cotton candy on your head." I guess that was another pink hair insult? Whatever it was, she motioned everyone towards the door. "Time to go. We've got darkness on our side now. We don't want to miss the party."

I made sure to keep up with Chelsea after she gave me the binoculars. She had reminded me of something that had always bothered me.

"Chelsea?" "What is it?" "Why don't you and Mark have your hair dyed the same color? You know, like the rest of us?" There was just enough light illuminating her face from inside the farmhouse that I could see her smile.

"Will told us that we had to dye our hair purple when we informed him that we wished to take over the farm here. Mark probably would have done it, but I told Will to stick it. He didn't argue with me."

We approached the water on the west side of Ranch Island. Mark told me to hand him the binoculars.

"I think I can see the Mystic Isles over there at about the eight o'clock," said Mark. "Take a look, Chelsea." Chelsea backed up his statement and then returned the binoculars to me.

"I'll lead the way. Try to keep up and be sure to be quiet. We don't need to be flailing around." I'm pretty certain that she was looking at me.

Chelsea sat down on the embankment to the water before essentially slipping quietly into it. It was obvious from how deep that she sank in that it was a pretty sharp drop off. Mark followed suit, who aided Vaughn in keeping his luggage balanced as he entered. Then he turned to me.

"Well… are you going to get in?" Mark was ready to help me, but I was tired of being treated like a little girl. I hopped in rather loudly.

My lack of experience in swimming immediately alerted me that this would be quite the ordeal. I was far from ready for the sensation of what felt like icy cold water, despite the fact that winter is long over. I'm not really sure why the stupid water doesn't feel like the air temperature, but I tried to adjust. Chelsea made some smart comment about my ostentatious entrance as we started on our passage to the Mystic Isles.

The ocean was calm enough that it almost looked like a sheet of glass as we slowly peddled our way out. The going was easy at first, but I began to realize about halfway there that the others had good reason for not dressing liberally. My clothes began to really bog me down, probably adding more than five pounds of weight that I had to deal with. I should have known that something was wrong when Vaughn was shirtless. He would never do that unless it was absolutely necessary. He wouldn't be able to stand all of the girls drooling at him.

This, combined with the frigid temperatures, made me begin to feel rather numb, and I was tempted to pathetically ask Mark or Vaughn if they would let me enjoy a ride on their back. The thought of Chelsea or Vaughn's reaction to this was enough to give me the strength to make the final push to land.

Mark was the first one to reach the beach. Vaughn and Chelsea were only shortly behind. As usual, I was still floundering around behind everyone else before Mark guided me to shore. I'm beginning to understand Chelsea's annoyance with me being around.

Mark put an arm around my shoulder as he helped me stand up. "Are you alright?"

I made sure to keep pace with him as we continued towards the other two to look strong. It probably didn't work. "I'm… jus- ju co-ld…. And… those dumb binoculars…. They are really heavy."

There was no more speaking after that, as we all knew the importance of keeping things quiet. The chapel was positioned on the other of the two islands, so we moved in that direction. As there was not a large amount of coverage nearby, we had to settle for some trees near what is called the Goddess Pond which were a stone throw away from the quiet chapel. That made me think of praying to the Harvest Goddess for a little bit of luck.

The boys allowed me and Chelsea to take comfortable seats in some sort of moss growing near the waterfront while they sat crouched behind the trees. No one spoke in order to keep our cover and to make sure that we could hear even the slightest noise.

I must have fallen asleep, because I don't really remember anything until Mark finally broke the silence.

"Nothing's happening," he whispered. "I never really thought that if they did this that it would go down the very night after. Not very smart."

"Just be patient, Mark," Chelsea answered. "We still have a few hours of opportunity yet. If nothing happens, we can always try tomorrow."

"Really? Do you really plan on coming out here every single night, wasting our time and-."

Mark was cut off when Vaughn abruptly covered his mouth. He waved his head towards the water to signify that he heard something. And he wasn't wrong.

It was soft at first, but there was an undeniable rumble of a motor approaching. About a minute after it cut off, a voice could be heard mumbling that did not belong to Nathan or Alisa. I couldn't tell who it was, but Vaughn leaned into my ear and muttered "Kirk."

The words gradually became more discernible as the figure materialized against the thin slice of moonlight. He was carrying a large jug of some sort and was obviously annoyed with someone.

"Always poor Kirk has to do everything… here… He… do it himself… so smart… Well… can't say I'm too… about doing this… I never thought it was necessary to begin with."

There was a click followed by a small flame near where Kirk's hand would have been. The figure hunched over and touched the flicker of light to the ground, which caused the flame to rather rapidly shoot towards the chapel and light up the front wall near the door like a fireplace. Kirk was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear him zooming off on his little skiff.

I think all of us wanted to do something, but there was nothing that we could be done without giving ourselves up. It was torturous to watch as the only exterior doors went up in a ball of fire. I think Mark was about to step out and do something when a stool launched out of the window to the left of the entrance. Nathan and Alisa crawled out and ran over to the beach coughing up all of the smoke that they must have inhaled. Up to that point I was a little worried that they were going to heroically "go down with the church", but they would not appear to be as radical as I initially thought.

What was really disgusting was when Kirk pulled up in his boat, jumped out, and ran to the two. There was a brief conversation before they watched as the chapel finally imploded on itself. Kirk put his arm around Alisa and allowed her to cry onto his shoulder as they watched their livelihood disintegrate within minutes. More talking followed before the three left on Kirk's boat.

We waited for a little while to make sure no one came back before leaving our sanctuary. There was still significant smoldering going on between the side walls, which remained standing as they were made of brick. I knew that Mark and Chelsea were going to somehow try connecting the fire with Kirk, but I wasn't really sure as to what the plan was.

Chelsea pulled out some heavy mittens from her bag and tossed a pair to each of us. "All of you- find me two samples of wall remains. One large plank of timber, and one small enough to fit into a small vial."

I didn't want to melt my feet off or anything, so I kept out of the heart of the debris. I was able to find one nice small charred piece of board that was still warm. As for the large sample, I didn't know exactly what size she wanted, so I ended up pulling out what was a beam that I think supported the roof before we, well, had it destroyed.

In the meantime, Chelsea had pulled a black case out of the backpack brought by Mark. She had gloves of her own; however, while ours where thick and soft, her gloves were thin and stretchy. I'm sure there is some significance to that.

As Chelsea was beginning to pull various items out of her case, Vaughn dropped his large board by her side and was about to hand her his small piece when he caught attention of the case's contents.

"How on earth did you get that on the Islands?"

I could tell that Chelsea was rather proud of herself while she removed something that looked like a roll of tape. "All of it together would have caught attention, but I split the contents when I had my belonging checked. I'm sure that they thought it was all makeup paraphernalia. I guess that is what you get when you have a bunch of men running the show."

Chelsea set her equipment aside and told Vaughn to lay his small sample on her case, which she subsequently lifted to her eyesight.

"...Alright. This is… nice. As for the other… yeah, it's definitely large…Natalie, how about you?"

I wasn't overly excited about showing Chelsea anything after her cold response to Vaughn but after some hesitation I finally gave in.

"… Alright. The other… ok." I don't think that she cared for my large plank, but she did give attention to my smaller piece. Finally, she waved Mark over. "Your turn."

Chelsea nodded while looking at the large chunk. "I'm glad you recognized that piece, too. He definitely touched the exterior right there as he bent down to pour the gasoline near the foundation." I don't know if they actually knew that or if they were just saying that to sound smart. I lean towards the later.

"As for your vial sample, it looks clean, but I really like Natalie's piece. The accelerant residue is undeniable."

I was gloating for the next five minutes as Mark inserted my little wood chip into the vial that they had brought and returned it to his backpack. In the meantime, Chelsea had me and Vaughn keep opposite ends of Mark's large plank steady on the ground as Chelsea applied some sort of powder which was then covered with tape. This tape was then gently removed and placed in another vial. It must have worked well because Chelsea rubbed her hands in delight once finished.

"Alright. Let's get packed up and get out of here."

The vial with the tape was placed in the black case, while I finally learned the purpose of Vaughn's long container as Mark carefully stored the long board inside of it. Once everything was in its proper place, Chelsea once again asked for the binoculars as Mark used a flashlight to send some signal to Lily. I could faintly see flashing light in response a few seconds later.

"Alright," said Chelsea as she dropped the binoculars around my neck. "We're clear to move out. Vaughn, try to keep your bag out of the water as much as possible. They may call it waterproof, but you never know with some of this stuff."

I'll spare the details on the swim back, as it was much the same as the trip over. The only real difference was Vaughn coming in alongside me as a result of his extra burden.

Lily was ready for us inside the farmhouse with hot chocolate and blankets. Mark did most of the explaining so the rest of us could focus on the drink.

"It worked like clockwork. They just couldn't help themselves from eliminating their 'threat' as soon as possible. We got a clean fingerprint, and we're sure to have a match on the accelerant once we take it back to forensics."

"Also," added Vaughn between sips, "We may even be able to associate it from the tank that we use to fuel the boat that's kept in the generator room. It would further incriminate Kirk."

Lily seemed genuinely pleased. "I'm beginning to feel regret that I did not come. Are we leaving tonight?"

…Leaving tonight? Mark expounded on this.

"I think that would be the right thing to do. I think we will be fine without, but it's only reasonable to get this back to the lab as fast as possible to avoid contaminating the data. With confirmed arson, the agency will have no choice but to investigate. They'll find the bodies and this place is shut down for good."

I had almost forgotten the significance of what we had done. It was a small little idea of mine that ended up working. I didn't really imagine just abandoning the Community like that… my family…

"I'm not ready to leave." Mark winced a little. He tried to talk soothingly as if he wanted me to see the logic in what he was saying. "Natalie… you have to come," he started. "They'll know that you helped us, and they'll probably kill you the second they find out. I want to be reasonable, but I'm not really asking."

What was said next was probably one of the most surprising things that I've ever heard. Chelsea, who had been looking down at the floor in thought for quite some time, finally looked up.

"Don't worry about it, Natalie. I'm not done here either."

"Chel…" Mark started.

"Don't start 'Chelsea-ing' me, Mark. Don't be naïve. I've been thinking, and, like it or not, I'm right. We don't know where those bodies are, and the chances of them being found are very slim. We don't even know if they're even in the ocean. They could have taken the Departure victims away on some other ship for all we know. That's probably the smart thing to do, anyway. If we're wrong, they get away practically clean. The only one we can even arrest right now is Kirk, and I doubt we could keep him behind bars for long on arson. We need more."

Mark squeezed his temple in frustration. "What do you expect us to do about that?" he mused softly.

"I don't know about the actual bodies, but we may be able to find some sort of documented evidence of illegal activitity here that can tie up the others, which we all know there are. There has to be some sort of paper trail from all of this mess." "Without a warrant?" "You know we have one. Back on the Mainland. I don't suppose you think it would have been a good idea to bring it, do you?"

The conversation turned into quite the stalemate as me and Chelsea pinned for one side while Lily and Mark opted to leave. Vaughn was the swing vote who couldn't decide to swing either way. We eventually decided that we would deal with it in the morning. By the time that we had thrown mattresses on the floor, we had only gotten a couple hours of sleep when a knock on the door woke us up. It was Elliot.

Chelsea had opened up the door, but I could see Elliot scanning the room from behind her, obviously making sure that I was nowhere near Mark. Luckily for Elliot, Mark had slept next to Vaughn on the other side of the room while we three girls chose a spot far away from the cold windows. I could not see Chelsea's face, but the stiff manner with which she leaned across the doorframe in her pajamas probably both scared him and made him uncomfortable at the same time.

"I… hi Chelsea." "Elliot." "I was supposed to drop by… Mom told me… who was told by Gramps who was told by Regis that we were having an assembly at Regis's house in around an hour." "Is that all?" "… Yes." "Good."

Elliot scuffled off as Chelsea shut the door. She looked directly at me. "I see why he annoys you."

We had just enough time to get ourselves looking reasonable for the meeting at Regis's. Obviously, we all knew it was about the fire, but we had to go anyways. Upon arriving, I had to take my traditional seat with my family. At least I can see Vaughn from where I sit. I had never really taken notice of him in the past, but I guess you could consider him my friend.

Unlike usual, there was no food to be served. All we had was Regis addressing us in front of the room once everyone was present.

"Friends… As you all know, we have the Sheep Festival tomorrow. I would like to have discussed the matter then, but word would probably get around by that time. Therefore, I would like to enlighten you on the situation as openly as possible.

"Last night, there was an unexpected fire on the Mystic Isles. Unfortunately, the chapel has been lost. Fear not, though- no one was injured. In fact, I believe Nathan has a few words he would like to share."

Regis took a seat while Nathan stood and walked to the front.

"I would to open by saying that perhaps this not a tragedy, but a sign from above that we have been looking at things the wrong way. I believe that we have been dealt this by the fates to condemn us for our worship of the Harvest Goddess. I think we have gotten this wrong. Human spirit is the highest level of power, not a being. We, in essence, are the gods. We should worship the life we have, not something that we cannot see. I lean towards the opinion that such is just a sign of weakness. We should be bold in nature, not fearful about what has happened in the past, but advance into the future.… Regis."

While Nathan returned to his seat and Regis regained his position of authority, I leaned back to get a look at Mark. He was mouthing something to himself. I've been around him long enough to recognize the phrase, "What have we done?" being repeated over and over. I nearly fell backwards when Regis began to speak again.

"I think that Nathan has made an excellent point… and I suspect that we all agree. Without a church, we have no further need for a pastor. For this reason, I suggest new employment for Alisa and Nathan. It is to my opinion that they would make excellent speakers at public events, as well as counselors when needed. Anyone in favor of this solution, please raise your hand."

A few hands began to go up, so the rest of us followed to not be left in the minority. That could have bad consequences. It made me think… is this the way it was when the Community was first established? A simple majority is all that is needed to determine one's future? What about choice? I knew that my grandfather was a farmer before joining the Community. He hasn't talked about it before yet I can't help wondering if he wanted the job, but a vote gave it to someone else instead. It was almost as sickening as knowing that Kirk had just burned down a building with two people still inside.

"That settles the matter. Carol, I believe that you have room at the inn for these two new guests. And I hope that everyone here shows compassion to these two in this time of transition." There was some clapping as Regis waved goodbye. "Now, don't forget the festival tomorrow- expect to have a fine time as we enjoy a meal and the finest display of sheep in the world. Enjoy the rest of the day."

I actually tried to take Regis's advice. By have a good day, that means staying away from family and even Mark and the others. I've had quite enough of them for now. So, I decided to hang out with Julia for a short time before returning to work.

We sat down in her living room with a couple bottles of cold milk to catch up on each other's lives.

"So… how are things coming?" she started. "Alright, I guess," I said, "been busy, but the festival will be a good relief from that." Julia smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, more specifically… how are things coming with you know who?"

I stared blankly. Julia had to reiterate herself. "As in, Pierre."

For the first time, I realized just how closed off I had been from the rest of the Community. "Yeah, me and Pierre are getting along great… but I'm actually dating Mark right now." Julia's face flushed red faster than you can turn a faucet.

"I… I didn't know…" "Don't worry, we have… been keeping it a little quiet. You aren't the only one who didn't know."

"Now, now, don't be rude by keeping secrets from friends. That's not very polite, is it?"

… Yeah, if that doesn't sound like Julia, that because it wasn't. It was the uninvited Chelsea who jumped down next to me and took a chug of my milk. Neither I nor Julia could really respond. Her eyes darted between the two of us as she drank. Realizing our discomfort, she finally set it back down on the table and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"What… Am I not invited to a little girl gossip?" Julia said that she was certainly welcome, but I tried shooing her away with, "Not when we're talking about your brother."

Chelsea nearly jumped out of her chair in mock girlishness. "Ah, Mark! You know, Natalie… I would be very careful with that one. It's just a matter of time before he runs. He always has, always will."

Julia tried to be helpful, completely ignorant of the fact that there is nothing really between the two of us. "I have to hold the opposite opinion. I find Mark to be a charming man."

My so-called boyfriend's so-called sister gave her typical snort. "More like a boy."

I'm not sure what her purpose was to bashing Mark. Why would you try sabotaging our supposed relationship? Nothing good could come from that. Perhaps she was actually trying to give me an honest warning- not that I need it. But a more likely hypothesis can be inferred from what she did after that.

A few more gulps by Chelsea completely emptied my glass, and she lowered it slowly as if in pure ecstasy. After a long breath of relief, she held it up to Julia. "You don't happen to have any more of these things, do you?" Julia smiled, obviously ready for an excuse to leave. "I'll have one for you right away."

As soon as Julia was gone, Chelsea turned to me and spoke as quickly as possible.

"Listen quick, Natalie. I had a word with Nathan. From what I got from him, he pretty much had that testimony spoon-feed to him by Regis. I think that would pretty suggestive that it was our glorious Head of the Community who called that strike on the chapel, don't you think? Though that was already kind of obvious." I nodded, prompting Chelsea to continue. "I think that can be enough to convince Mark to agree with us for know. We just need a day. With the festival tomorrow, I think we have the perfect opportunity to go looking for something. If that doesn't work, we leave. If it does, it was obviously worth it. We just need to know where we should look… Don't suppose you have any ideas?"

I was about to affirm the already clear point that I'm completely useless to the investigation when I shut my mouth right before the words get through. In fact, I had an idea. A really good one at that. It would clear a lot of things up. I reached into one of my pockets and twirled a collection of rings around my finger.

"...I think I might know. And I just happen to have our ticket in."


	11. Chapter 11: Cards on the Table

**Author's Notes: **Yes, I know... another long wait. And I hate to dissapoint anyone following this, but this "chapter" is more of a two parter- the action isn't really finished until the next installment as I want to keep chapter lengths somewhat reasonable. Oh well, this is the best I can do. On another note, a lot is going on in this chapter. Most of it should be explained later (and there is much to be done!), but you can always ask me if there is something that you might be confused about. Thanks, as always!

* * *

**Chapter 11- Cards on the Table**

Bush-method communication has traditionally been used only once a day. The day prior to the festival, though, I received at least five slips of paper that I would respond to between shipping loads. To summarize what was said, Mark had agreed to our plan. We would meet up at ten in the morning when I would split up the keys to the various warehouses. Mark would take the one next to Haila's café. The one next to Julia's house went to Lily. Vaughn was to search the one by Pierre's house, though we knew that he would have to leave early to help set up for the festival. The final warehouse, the one by Nick's diner, would be tackled by me and Chelsea. Obviously, they trust me the least, so they tag teamed me with the most experienced one of us.

We chose ten o'clock because that's usually when Kirk ferries Regis over to Meadow Island to begin preparations. That would knock our two biggest threats out of the way. Still, all of us knew to use extreme caution. We gave ourselves only forty-five minutes before we agreed we had to be out of there.

I'm not actually sure if I've explained the reasoning for searching the warehouses. Maybe it's pretty obvious, but it's worth explaining. What it really came to was thinking of Sabrina's sudden Departure. I find it hard to believe that it is a coincidence that it occurred right after I gave her the keys to search for some books. Regis's reaction when he returned the keys to me afterwards would suggest that I more or less caused the Departure, too. It would explain why Regis doesn't really want any more people getting in there than he has to. Because that is where he is keeping all of his dirty material.

I told my family that I was, as usual, going to spend the time before the festival with Mark. Our boyfriend-girlfriend thing has turned out to be quite the convenient excuse. For once, I was actually the first person besides Mark and Chelsea to arrive at the ranch. When Vaughn and Lily entered, I immediately pulled each of the individual keys off of the ring and handed them out to the appropriate person, reminding them of which warehouse the key is used for. That was the extent of the talking, as Vaughn was ready to move out to make the most of the time he had before having to go. Mark and Lily were shortly behind him, leaving me with Chelsea.

"I know this is your idea, Natalie," she started as we moved towards the door, "but you are following my lead on this. We're going to have to be careful getting there, especially considering this warehouse is right in the open. We can't let anyone know we are looking around who might tip off Regis."

I didn't really have any desire to argue. Though I don't always get along with Chelsea, I trust her much more than myself on this one issue: keeping us alive.

After crossing the bridge back to Verdure, Chelsea crouched over and moved into some brush by Julia's house, which I reluctantly had to mimic. I wasn't sure what she was waiting on until I saw Pierre cross by carrying some dishes. Once he had stumbled back into his house, Chelsea nodded and jumped up. Upon corssing the road, we slid across the road to our next stop- more shrubbery, this time in the grass growing against the walls of Nick's diner, which no one bothered to cut properly. Chelsea slowly crawled until she could see around the back of the building to make sure that neither Eliza was out playing on the beach or Denny fishing. Satisfied, she stuck her hand out back to me so I would give her the last key on the ring. Once I had, we both charged across the open, slamming into the warehouse at half speed. It looked rather cool, but it actually kind of hurt my shoulder. More of concern, though, was anxiously waiting until Chelsea managed to finally turn the key in the door knob. Once she had, we both jumped in and quickly closed the door behind us.

Based off the intensity of the previous events, I was ready to start punching or kicking things. But once I managed to get my breathing back until control, I became increasingly serious. I think the environment had as much impact on this as the gravity of the job. The warehouses are cold and deadly quiet. There are still some signs that the building was once inhabited. Given the things I've learned this spring, the place seems even more morbid.

Chelsea patted a bookcase in the corner. "You look for things in these books. I'll take this chest right here."

And thus began our search. I looked through all of the pages in every book on every bookcase, but all I found was a couple of old pencils. Chelsea rummaged through the rest of the storage. The only places that weren't searched were things that I told her I have used often enough that I would have seen something before. Chelsea pulled off the head of a broom to see if something would fall out. I tried looking for documents hidden in some frames that showcase drawings of fish and the sea. But we found nothing.

I was peering into some vases when I finally had enough. I tossed the vases back where I found them and threw my arms up.

"There's nothing here, Chelsea. Gosh, I was I knew which warehouse Sabrina went to."

Something that I said must have inspired Chelsea. "Sabrina… you said that she was looking for a book on medicine or something, right?" "That's the impression I got." "Then if she saw something, or at least someone thought she might have seen something, it would be around books about medicine. I shook my head. "I already checked all the books." "I didn't say that I was going to check the books. Just where is the stuff on medicine?"

I told her that I remembered seeing a couple of books on medicine on a bottom shelf in the corner where an old bed laid covered in dust. I had never gone back that far in the warehouse before. Too wet and moldy. Chelsea didn't seem to care.

After pulling the books out and handing them to me to hold, Chelsea laid down and stuck her head where the books used to be. She remained there looking around for a few seconds before pulling her head out. "There's something back here in the wall. Hold on."

She reached behind the shelf and pulled hard. There was a soft popping sound. Carefully, she removed a square of wood paneling that she held by two holes built into the wood. She set this to her side.

"Hand me a flashlight, would you? I can see something way back in there."

Figuring that her hands would be too full to actually use it, I sat next to her and directed the light over her shoulder where we could see what we were doing. From my position I could tell where Chelsea was reaching around a wall of bricks that the foundation appeared to sit on. It's somewhat hard to describe what was going on, as I don't really know a whole lot about building houses. The best way explanation I can give is that Chelsea reached back under the building between the exterior and interior walls. Once I could see that she was holding something, I moved away so she could get out.

When she was finally separated from the bookcase, she moved towards what appeared to have been a dining table and laid her find on it.

I knew we had found something important when I saw the box. It was made of black metal, about the size of a nice, thick book. Fortunately, whoever put it there thought it was a good enough of a hiding spot that he neglected to put a lock on it.

Chelsea bowed and gave the honors to me to open it. When I did, wads of paper nearly jumped out onto the floor. I don't know if it was caused either by built up pressure or if it was simply filled up too full. Probably both.

I definitely promote the second option because it really was full of random paper. Some were in envelopes, others were these small slips that had lots of numbers, and a large amount had these intricate grid systems.

Chelsea quickly went after the graph paper while I began to pilfer the letters, as those were the only things I actually knew what were. I quickly realized that we had found just what we were looking for. Everything was addressed to Regis Regison of Regison Mining and Metals.

The first one I took a look at was really old looking. It went as follows (well, sparing some of the unimportant stuff that isn't worth sharing):

_Dear Mr. Regison,_

_It has come to our attention recently of an incident that occurred on your Sunshine Island facility some three years ago. We fully support your ambitions as chief operating officer there, but the board must take considerations in the knowledge that these events are liable to disclosure. IF OSHA investigates, and our account of what happened is accurate, the impact on the corporation would be monumental. For this reason, we would like to give you the opportunity to prevent this information from being released due to your relationship with the company. However, we will have no choice but to step in on the situation if matters are not dealt with in a timely manner._

_Below is provided the names of those that need to be contacted, as well as information you may need in regard to them. _

There were six names and addresses, which I suspect is the reason that he kept this letter. I was deeply intrigued by this letter, so I found another that had been written by the same person. This one was written just two years ago.

_Dear Mr. Regison,_

_Your father is deeply sorry in your resignation from the company. However, he is allowing the dropping of the Sunshine Islands facilities from the company. The mine was a minor asset to begin with and has been reduced to near no value since the accident. The board has agreed that you can do whatever you wish with it. However, your father has denied loaning you any amount of money for your current situation. Your nephew saved us from having the company brought down, and whatever you owe him is completely for you to deal with as you have retired from Regison Mining and Metals. Your father was upset enough in your decision that he changed his phone number so you would not be able to access him while you remain on the Sunshine Islands commune. However, if you ever need to reconcile with him, we have provided his new contact below for your own benefit._

_We all wish you the best in your future endeavors._

Now, you probably expect that I'm completely clueless on what that meant- but you're wrong. It was a lot to process, but I got the idea. Sort of. Chelsea appeared to be making a similar conclusion. She showed me a couple of her mystery papers and started pointing to things as if I understood what the point of the lines and numbers were.

"Take a look at this, Natalie. These are Regis's financial forms. Here's one of his journals… a whopping two million dollars flooded out to six different sources in a short period of time. I recognize one of the people that Regis was giving money to. He was busted for taking bribes to keep regulation infringements off of the books. I'm guessing this is off of the official accounts, which means that this data could be enough to earn Regis a few years in the pen. Anyways, Regis has been booking regular losses for years now. And just recently he has been taking in monthly payments from a Regison Mining and Metals. Someone has been keeping the Community from going under."

I shook my head in disbelief. "From the letters I've seen, this person has also been getting on Regis's nerves."

It was only a matter of who it was. But both of us came up with the same name rather quickly. Chelsea, though, would say it first.

"There's only one person that I know of who could afford to loan so much to Regis- our good friend William. I knew that Regis's family owned a pretty successfully mining company, but I had no idea that Regis was still working for them when he moved to the Islands. I thought the mine was independent, only for the Community's benefit. A lot of the profits from it must have gone to the company, not the Community. I also had heard that Regis had a rather wealthy nephew by Regis's half brother. I had never thought that it could be Will. He's never said anything about being related to Regis or Sabrina."

Well, no duh, Chelsea. That would be stupid if you are worried about being attached to the Head of the Community in any way. Will has obviously played this pretty smart. He's been entirely unassuming in his behavior. No one would ever have thought that he could secretly be running the whole show.

I kept my thoughts to myself, though, while Chelsea continued to pour out more information that she found interesting. She finally stopped rambling and began to thumb the pages uncomfortably.

"I need to get these documents back to the agency. But I can't move them without the possibility of Regis checking up on his box. If only there was a copier on this forsaken rock."

"Well…" I began, "you could always try using the magic clicker."

Chelsea straight up told me that she thought I was joking. In my defense, I did figure that it probably wasn't called that. But I had never heard a name for it, so that's what I came up with when I found it as a child. When I was younger, I probably did a bit too much of exploring around the warehouses. In this particular one I found this box with a lens that had a button I would click. When I did, whatever I was pointing at would show up behind some glass on the box like a painting that is real. I had a habit of making clicks of either myself making faces or Elliot doing something stupid that I could look at using some sort of control on the box. It was only about a year ago that I put it back where I found it in case I got in trouble for having it. It was still where I left it under the room's sink.

"It's called a camera," said Chelsea when I gave it to her. "It's not particularly new and its batteries are probably corroded."

"The magic cy-… the cylinders. I know where to find those." In hindsight, "magic" is a rather stupid word to call something by. I could be real immature when I was younger. It actually is pretty impressive that I was able to deduce that replacing the batteries would fix the camera, though. The word "batteries" is not unfamiliar. I know that those things were used in flashlights, which must make them electronic. I had rarely used a flashlight in the past, so I never made the connection with the cylinders. The flashlight must be one of the few things that we can actually use of this kind. Anyways, I kept the batteries for the camera in a nearby box.

Chelsea inserted the batteries and after a nerve-racking couple of seconds, the glass lit up. Even Chelsea looked mildly pleased.

She handed me the evidence that she considered important for me to take clicks of. When we had finished with that, Chelsea took the camera to make sure that the camera clicks were clear. My mind drifted a little while she worked until she began to laugh.

"What do we have here, Natalie?" Apparently, she had moved the controls far enough that the clicks on the glass cycled back to the oldest ones I had taken. She was rather amused by my earliest attempts of trying to take clicks of myself.

I didn't find it funny.

Before she could go much further, I jumped over her and wrestled for control of the camera. Chelsea's stronger than I, but she didn't put up much of a fight. When I had yanked it out of her hand, I ran with it across the room before she could make another move for it.

"That's quite enough of that." I tried to act angry, but both of us ended up fits of laughter almost immediately. At least she didn't see the clicks I had taken of Regis to try proving that he was a vampire. She actually would have been upset by that.

Our fun was cut short when I looked out the window and saw Kirk's boat approaching Verdure. He was accompanied by Regis.

"Chelsea… we need to get out of here." She still thought I was joking. "Yeah… why's that, Natalie?" She asked. "Regis is on his way to the island."

Chelsea's face paled as she began reorganizing the papers back into the box.

"Chelsea… this is not the time. We need to get out of here now!" "Hold one, I have to do this."

She closed the box and was beginning to replace it under the house while I watched the window. To my dismay, he took the path that led only towards our warehouse.

I was even more panicked this time. "Chelsea! We have to go right now! He's coming this way!" I had already begun to open the door to leave when I realized that she hadn't made an attempt at moving. I grabbed her by the shirt and tried to pull her out of the wall. She shouted at me to let go.

"He's going to see us! Forget the box or we are both dead!"I insisted.

Chelsea worked with blinding speed. Before Regis was within fifteen yards of the warehouse, she already had the panel replaced and rearranged the books. But there was no way that we could get out of the building. I could explain my presence, but I could never answer as to why Chelsea would be with me. I've been told before to only go in alone; otherwise I would just say that she was accompanying me. Plus, there is no reason why we should be in the far back corner when the boxes are on the other side of the room.

Apparently, though, Chelsea had an idea. A horrible idea that I wish I didn't have to write about. But I have an obligation to.

Before Regis had even arrived, Chelsea knocked one of the books back onto the floor and commanded me to grab her by the shirt. Before I could ask why, she pushed hard off of my shoulder, which resulted in me being thrown two steps back and her going to the ground. Her shirt was ripped in the process.

"Let go of me, Natalie! Let go, let go!"

Regis rushed up to the door to see what had happened. What he saw was Chelsea trying to escape my grasp.

"What… is this?" he asked rather cautiously.

"I just wanted a book!" Chelsea pleaded. "Something… something on medicine, you know, so we won't have an incident like Charlie again! Natalie began freaking out when she saw I was in here. I wouldn't have cared so much had she not grabbed my shirt."

"Well… you aren't supposed to be in here," he responded calmly.

"Why? Why are you in here, then?" Chelsea spat back.

Regis pulled out his ring of keys. So much for losing them. He probably didn't want to give them to Sabrina so something like this wouldn't happen. Too bad I messed that up. Twice now, if you include this.

"I happen to have one of the two sets of keys to the warehouses. There is a reason for this. Natalie's family has the other. On that note, why are you in here on a festival day, Natalie?"

That was the least courageous moment of my life. I was going to say something different, but I could tell from the look in Chelsea's eye that I was to say what she wanted me to say.

"We've had a lot of distractions in the past couple of weeks, and we have fallen behind on our shipping. I was going to grab some boxes so we could get immediately to work after the festival. The door was cracked open, and my first thought was that I must have not shut it properly last time I was here. At least until I saw Chelsea in here peeking around. I was calm until I felt my belt and realized that she must have stolen my keys when I stayed at their house the other night." I was betting on him not knowing that I usually don't carry the keys on me, or that I check to make sure they are still where they are supposed to be every time I go home.

"And where are her keys now, Chelsea?" Chelsea obediently held it out to him.

"Here's the one for this building. I have the others at home. I can have the rest returned by the time the festival starts. I… I can show them to you then. I'm so sorry, I meant to give them back. I just wanted to look for a book. Sabrina had mentioned doing it before, and it sounded like a good idea."

Regis walked across the room and helped lift Chelsea from the floor.

"I understand, Chelsea, but you must not do things such as this. Natalie, I'm glad you were here. I wouldn't have found out if I hadn't come back for the balloon pump that I had forgotten when I gathered some things for the festival earlier this morning."

Regis picked up the aforementioned pump, walked to the door, and waved us to follow him out. Chelsea tried to hold her shirt together while I grabbed a couple of boxes to legitimize my story. He bowed like a gentleman (not true, by the way) after he closed the door behind us.

"I will see the two of you soon. Don't worry, as long as it doesn't happen again, I'll keep what happened between the three of us."

Regis was already on Kirk's boat before Chelsea finally spoke.

"… You have the camera, right?" Her voice was very quiet. I nodded, as I had slid it into my front pocket when I saw Regis coming towards us. "Good," Chelsea continued, "drop the boxes off at your house and take the camera to the ranch."

She was obviously trying to avoid the burning question for as long as possible. Thankfully, no one was home when I threw the jumble of cardboard on my bed. Mother and Gramps were probably out getting some last minute shipping. I'm not sure where Elliot was. I have a hard time believing he actually has friends to hang out with.

As for me, I had a "friend" to take care of. Chelsea was out in the fields examining some plants when I found her. This time I actually did grab her hard by the new shirt she had put on. She stood up at my will so she wouldn't lose another one.

"What the heck was that?! Could you not come up with anything better to say?! You are going to get both of us the Departure!"

"Natalie… please let go of me." Chelsea sounded like she was speaking to a child. It only made me more charged.

"Not till you give me an answer!"

Chelsea apparently had enough of letting me be in control. In a flash of movement, she had me in some sort of arm lock until I finally grunted that I would calm down.

"With that taken care of, the only answer I can give you is that you are wrong. I don't think that we will both be killed. Hopefully, there will only be one needed."

I already knew what she was trying to do. It was obvious early on. But I just couldn't accept it until I heard it from her own mouth. But there it was. Chelsea had every intention to give herself up to be executed.

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**Author's Notes:** I said that it would end in midstream! I thought I foreshadowed it a bit, but I am curious if anyone else saw it coming. I think this is definately a clear sign that the end is not far off. Well, hopefully the next wait will be shorter (probably not!) so you don't have to think over this for too long.


	12. Chapter 12: Line on the Horizon

**Author's Notes:** Yay! A relatively quick upload! I had actually intended to make this chapter two scenes longer, but I'm going to have to wait on those for next time, as the word count was already beginning to register pretty high. Let me tell you, dialogue has a habit of getting the best of you. The good news is that the delay helps round out the next chapter, leaving about three left. So close, yet so much more to finish! Well, This chapter will help tie up the loose ends needed for the finale. Hope you enjoy it! (or at least don't dislike it!)

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**Chapter 12- Line on the Horizon**

Chelsea's actions were admirable, but I couldn't help but be a little pessimistic that they would be enough. "How can you know that?" I said, "Regis may decide that it's safer to throw me out, too. Just in case." "I can't make any promises, Natalie. But you have to trust me... We'll deal with this when the others get here."

She said that knowing that Lily was approaching from behind me. Mark was not with her. Hopefully he hadn't done anything life threatening, too. Lily seemed to be fine, other than that she was rather annoyed.

The three of us returned to the farmhouse to wait for Mark. For about five minutes, Lily whined about how she found nothing in the most eloquent of words while we patiently listened. Well, I wasn't really listening, but I did my best to act like it. I was too worried about Mark. Apparently, Chelsea was too, as she brought up the topic once Lily was done venting.

"Mark should be back by now," she said casually, but with a hint of coarseness.

Lily was finally done worrying about herself by this point. "Indeed. I'm sure he is fine condition, though. Last time I saw him was when he was crossing the bridge to Sprout Island. All we can do is wait, as he likely lost track of time… By the way, while my efforts were fruitless, did you two potentially find something of interest?"

Well, it's about time. "We'll talk about it when Mark gets back," replied Chelsea, "I don't feel like spilling the whole story twice."

Lily probably thought that it was a strange answer, but she did not seem to suspect that something was wrong. Chelsea walked to the refrigerator and poured some glasses of water for us to drink.

After our first sip, Mark threw open the door and fell to the floor gasping. My first instinct was that something was wrong, but Mark waved that he was fine.

"Sorry… I just… couldn't give up. I lost track of time! I ran back as fast as I could, I promise! Wouldn't have been so... so out of shape if I haven't been living off of a milk and eggs diet for so long. " Lily winked at me as she helped him to a chair at the table. I aided the effort by sliding my glass of water over to him, as I wasn't particularly thirsty. Mark, on the other hand, looked like he was about to lose consciousness.

No one said anything until Mark was almost restored to normal. Still panting a little, he looked up to Chelsea.

"What's happened?"

"We won't know about Vaughn until we see him at the festival. Lily's warehouse was a dud. Me and Natalie... we found a lot of interesting things."

Chelsea played it pretty cool, not even hinting that something went badly wrong. But Mark is always too good at reading people.

"That's good, but why do you look like your dog just died?"

There was no more avoiding the question. Chelsea didn't want to say it, and she didn't have to. "Regis walked in on the two of us," I told him.

Mark may have exploded if he hadn't been so worn out. His voice was not loud, but there was firmness in it. He addressed himself to Chelsea, as he appeared to put the blame on her.

"Then all is lost. They'll kill you, they'll kill Natalie, they'll kill me as your brother. All we can do know is try to separate ourselves from Vaughn and Lily and hope for the best."

Chelsea slammed her fists down on the table. She had finally lost control of her emotions.

"Why do you always have to be so negative?! Do you not trust me?! There was nothing that could have been done to avoid it, but I cleaned it up as best as I could. Regis probably thinks that Natalie was not involved- or you, for that matter."

"But you know the way they work out here. They'll play it as conservative as possible. They'll send Natalie with you just in case."

"They might be conservative, but they aren't stupid. Three Departures in one season? Stupid. They'd risk having an uprising. Especially in her case, as she's been here her whole life. The only one that they might consider is you, and I doubt they'd even go that far since that would leave them without a functioning farm once again."

"I don't care whether they send me or not, but you better be right about the others." More specifically, Mark was referring to me. It didn't go by me unnoticed.

Chelsea leaned across the table to make sure that Mark looked at her directly in the eyes. "I promise. If anything happens to them, you can be sure that we aren't going down without a fight."

Mark, shook his head, slid back out of his chair, and walked to the window.

"That still leaves you, though. I can't let you do this, Chelsea. It's not normal. We'll take Kirk's boat tonight and get all of us out."

"I know you were there when Vaughn told us that Kirk has the only key to turn the engine on. The only way he gives it up is when he is sick so Vaughn can take it to the Mainland alone. You could sneak into his room tonight, but you'd never find it and only get us in more trouble. There's no way to get me out of here by tomorrow morning. And you know it."

Mark smiled morbidly. "You've planned this out, haven't you? You've been waiting for this to happen."

I found it to be a ridiculous hypothesis, but Chelsea didn't respond in the way I would have expected. Rather than saying such, she walked towards her bed and opened up a drawer in her nightstand. She pulled out a small box that could fit in her palm that had been buried at the bottom of a pile of clothes. She showed it to Mark.

"No Mark, I didn't plan for this. But you know that this is our ticket. With this, we have no reason to worry about the following investigation. I want every last one of these scumbags buried. This way, we know that we can trace the deaths to them, and we might even be able to find the others who got the Departure. We can't let the fate of the missing people be ambiguous. Not in this situation, especially when the public opinion is going to be biased in favor for the Community. We have to make a point. You know I have to do this."

I didn't know what Chelsea was holding, but I knew that she was earnest in what she was saying. Mark continued to protest, but his arguments began to break down into quivering. I took matters into my own hands when it looked like he was about to have a seizure.

It still feels wrong that I should agree that the person who saved my life needs to die, but I did what I felt had to be done. I stood up and helped drag Mark to a chair. I whispered into his ear, trying to calm him down.

"You have to let her go, Mark. It's going to be fine." I would normally call a guy acting like Mark a crybaby, but I understood what he was feeling. Chelsea was the one person from his old life that he had with him. Despite their disagreements, they were undeniably close. That'd be like me losing… well, I don't really know.

Chelsea nodded to me before speaking. "Now, I believe that we have a festival to get ready for. We'll finish this tomorrow morning, if we time before the assembly."

I've always been a supporter of festivals to break up the boredom of life on the Islands, but I confess that the Sheep Festival might actually be more boring than doing nothing at all. Apparently the people who lived on the Islands prior to the forming of the Community did something similar, so we kept it with some added "Community spirit." Gramps once told me that there used to be a contest where people from the Mainland would come and try to present the most impressive sheep. Nowadays, though, Mark and Chelsea just show off some of the ones they own. Many of the people of the Community (usually women) will also present some knitting that they've done. It's not an actual contest, but I like looking at all of them and deciding which is the ugliest. That award would go to Chen this year. He sewed a scarf that was supposed to be in memory of Charlie, though I'm still not sure what it had to do with Charlie. Well, it's the thought that counts… but it was still undeniably ugly.

The reader ought to know some details of the management of festivals as to not be confused. Mark and Chelsea were the stars of the festival, but they did not have to help set up. For each festival, a team of three aids Regis, Head of the Community, in making preparations. The three for the Sheep Festival were Vaughn, Julia, and Mirabelle. If you are interested, which I'm sure you are, I work with Gramps and Mother to organize the Winter Noodle Festival. It's pretty bland as it doesn't seem to serve much of a purpose, but it does feel good to eat some warm food on a cold winter night.

I made sure to spend the festival with my family. I tried to act engaged when looking at all of the different exhibits, but I was more focused by watching Lily talk with Vaughn near Meadow Island's beach. I knew what she must have been telling him. Vaughn didn't register much emotion, but I could tell by the way his gait retarded after their conversation that he was upset to some degree. At least I hope that he was upset. You never know with Vaughn.

The festival lasted until six o'clock, at which time I returned home and spent the night with my family. I was becoming increasingly anxious about what the next day held, as I knew quite well that I might be getting the Departure. I tried to comfort myself by knowing that Mark and Chelsea were probably more concerned than I was.

I woke up early to make sure that I was the first one to check the door. There were no surprises, as the expected green bulletin was punctured onto a nail on our door slapped on there for that very purpose. Of course it was there. Regis is a really poor liar.

It would have been impossible to tell my family, so I left it sitting on the table while I started to cook some eggs for everyone. I felt a little uncomfortable eating eggs after what Mark told me, but it was worth doing to keep me busy. Plus, if I didn't look guilty, Mother wouldn't worry that I did something wrong.

Well, she did that anyways when she walked into the room. She yawned while examining the type until she realized what it was.

"Natalie, please tell me that-!" "I didn't do anything, mom. I promise. It must be someone else." I wish Gramps and Elliot would have been present for that, as they repeated the same question when they came in. I gave the same answer with increasing agitation each time. Everyone is always so quick to jump on the let's-blame-Natalie boat.

After the eerily quiet meal was finished, I told my family that I needed to talk with Mark as I was worried about whether or not it could be him. Because I had gotten up early (I hadn't really slept, to be honest), I still had enough time to visit the ranch.

My entrance either went unnoticed or no one cared enough to acknowledge it. Mark, Vaughn, and Lily were huddled around the table that Chelsea was sitting on top of. She was holding that device I saw her with the previous day.

"Now," said Mark, "that data pusher probably won't last long if you… if you…" "Go into the water," completed Chelsea. "I know. We've gone over this before. Hopefully the case we put it in will last long enough for the coordinates transmitted to be close enough. Now, Mark, give me some space so I can talk in private."

She had a few things to say to Lily first. I joined the two guys against the wall while we waited for our turn. When they were done, a watery-eyed Lily moved to sit on one of the beds. She spoke to Vaughn briefly, who nodded and gave some kind of reply before returning to his original position. She waved to me next, and put an arm on my shoulder. I interrupted whatever she was going to say.

"I'm so-." "-Don't… just don't. It's fine. It was my duty, and I don't regret what I did. Just do this one thing for me, bubblegum. Mark is going to need someone to get him moving when I'm gone. I know that there is no one I can trust more than you for this. But you need to do whatever he tells you to do, too. He'd give his life and more for you, and as hard as it is to say, he's quite a bit smarter than I am. I just need you to be there for him. Can you do that for me?"

I quietly said that I would and took a place next to Vaughn. As much as I would like to think that I am the most important person on the Islands, it was only appropriate that she would speak with Mark last. This conversation dragged on, and I suspect they probably only stopped talking because of a shortage on time. Chelsea turned to us rather abruptly.

"Remember, if anyone other than me or Mark gets pulled out of the crowd, get yourself to Kirk's boat as quick as possible. You'll know when to start running when I snap Kirk's neck. Mark will try to fend off Regis and Will. If anyone else gets in the way, Vaughn, I need you to stop them for Natalie and Lily. Natalie, make sure you have that camera with you if it comes to that."

With that, she led the way out of the room. The walk to Sprout Island's dock felt incredibly long given the situation. Chelsea was in front of the pack the whole way there, calm as could possibly be imagined. Even more than you could imagine, actually. I couldn't help but ask her if she was nervous, and she curiously replied that she had the least reason to be concerned- she had only one simple task left to finish. I do wonder if this was closer to Chelsea's personality before she burdened herself in the difficulty of her job.

The wait when we got there was not long, as we were among the latter people to arrive (yet again). My family was already there, and I took my usual place next to them. Regis, of course, would be the one to speak.

"As you all know, we are unfortunately gathered here for no other reason than a betrayal to the Community… Chelsea, please step forward."

I didn't know what the standards for the Departure of multiple people were, but up to that point, Chelsea alone was mentioned.

"Chelsea… it has come to the attention of the Head of the Community that your actions have deemed you a threat to the survival of these islands… Do you have anything to say?"

At the sound of her name, the people of the Community parted to form a pathway for her up to the dock. It was nearly unbearable to watch someone so innocent of wrongdoing walk across lines of people that considered her a traitor. Chelsea, though, was still calm. In front of everyone, it was too late for her to give any actual personal comments. It was all acting. For that reason, she only mentioned "brother" Mark.

"Mark… I'm sorry if my actions have in any way embarrassed our family… I hope that you continue to manage the farm after I return to the Mainland… don't be afraid to ask for help."

And thus were her last words. As Kirk grabbed her by the arm to lead her to the boat, I nearly kicked the whole snap-Kirk's-neck plan into action on my own. I had been warily accepting of the plan to give up Chelsea before, but actually seeing it in motion made it all too real. I still believe that I would have done it, but a hand from someone next to me stopped me from moving forward. It was Lily. Of course she wanted Chelsea to die- apparently that happening would help tie up the Departures as acts of murders, which would put away the people she holds responsible for the Departure of her cousin. She couldn't care less about Chelsea. She saved my life, not Lily's.

As little as I cared about Lily's opinion, it gave me enough time to imagine how mad Chelsea would have been if I tried to save her. So I did nothing. No one else did, either. No charging at Regis from Mark this time around.

Some of the people were already beginning to leave before the boat had even left, which gave me a clear line of sight at Chelsea. I would still swear that I saw her nod at me before Kirk fired up the engine and kicked away from the dock.

Mark was loitering around much like myself. The only other person still nearby was Pierre, who was rather slow moving. He looked deadly sick, though I don't think that we will be fortunate enough for that to happen… Ok, that was a little harsh. Just ignore that I ever mentioned that.

Anyways, Mark must have thought the same thing as I did. After he had glanced around to see if anyone was watching and decided that Pierre was too disorientated to pay attention, Mark scurried off towards Denny's shack.

The house itself is built against a couple of steep, rocky hills that look out over the ocean. I can't say I've ever given them much thought, but I decided that I should join Mark up there. I scratched a finger on my way up so I had to fake looking composed when I sat down next to Mark, who was dangling his legs over a ledge directly over the ocean. He was obviously watching as Kirk's boat approached that place where the sea meets the heavens. I found myself inevitably doing the same. Mark spoke first, but only after the ship was completely out of sight.

"Maybe she'll be fine. She could try overpowering Kirk and make way back home."

"I'm sure that Kirk is used to having people trying to struggle. He's probably prepared. Plus, part of me thinks that she has little interest in going back to the Mainland... what was that thing that she had with her?"

"It's a GPS tracker. It's the only real electrical device that we risked sneaking on, primarily because the agency wouldn't allow us to go without one. I hid it in the lining of my suitcase when Will checked our belongings. It will send her location back to the Mainland. When we… I… get back, I can check to see if Kirk just shot her out in the ocean or exiled her to some prison out on a remote island. It's useful data, but she should never have done that for it. Dying thanks to an balloon pump." Mark chuckled at the irony.

"She did it because she felt she had to, Mark." "Or maybe she just wanted me to feel what she's felt in the past when she lost her friends." "Chelsea may have been mean, but she wasn't mean spirited. You just need suck it up and move on."

Mark glanced at me sideways. "You know, you can be a real man at times, Natalie…" "And, sadly, the opposite goes for you."

Mark's voice was warming up, but he was still flinging his arms around in desperation. "We can't do this, Natalie. Not without Chelsea. I can't work without her."

Chelsea had told me that I had to keep Mark in line. I saw no reason to not start early.

"She trusted you, Mark, to do your job when she was gone. Sometimes you have to take things into your own hands. You are the smartest person I know. Chelsea could never have gotten me to help you guys out- and without her, there is no question that you are the most important person left here. Now go home, stop moping, and think of a way to get us out of her so we can finish what Chelsea helped start."

Mark can be pathetic, but at least he is obedient. He got up and brushed some of the dirt off of his pants that came from climbing up.

"I know what you mean. I'll try working something out tonight. You make sure to do the same. I'll contact you if I have something, so be on the lookout. And whatever you do, don't give off any suspicion when around Regis, Will, or Kirk." Chelsea must have told him about Will when I wasn't there. Lily and Vaughn had probably been informed, too.

I remained where I was even after Mark was gone. He had left just in time. A rain shower moved in only a couple of minutes later.

I know that I should have gone home at that point, but I was in one of those moods that I relish more misery- though I always regret it later. But I decided that it was only appropriate that more sorrows fell on me.

After curling up like a ball for some form of solitude, I looked out to see if I could make out the boat or even the Mainland. It was obviously impossible in the given weather, but I told myself that I would not move until I had succeeded.

I heard some scuffling behind me, but I didn't bother to turn around. It was probably just Mark again. I found this hypothesis even more convincing when this unknown person sat a hat on top of my head. That is, I thought it was Mark until I recognized that the hat was far larger than what Mark wore, and a brief examination confirmed that it was black. Vaughn had joined me.

The two of us sat together, and I decided that I was glad that I had a hat. Sitting in the rain is stupid. Not even Elliot would be such a baby. But Elliot also didn't lose someone close to him. I had. And it hurt.

Vaughn must have known what I was feeling, as he did not speak. He probably thought that if I wanted to talk, I would be the one to say something. Well, Vaughn, you would be correct.

As it is, though, Vaughn is a good person to dump all of your concerns onto. He doesn't really gossip to other people, so you can get things off of your chest without worrying about stories getting around.

"I'm just tired, Vaughn. I'm tired of having to pretend to be strong for everyone. It's too much for me, when I have my own doubts."

Vaughn glanced at me sideways. His countenance was cold, but his eyes were bright. "You don't have to pretend."

It was a short, obvious response. But it did make me feel a little better. Just a little.

"How is Mark handling it?" he asked.

"Not so hot. Well, I guess you could say he was hot because he acted like he was going to have a meltdown." I thought it was pretty funny.

"And Lily?"

Vaughn should have known better than to ask. "She didn't seem to care. I'm sure if I asked her why, she probably would have quoted a proverb of one of her stupid ancestors. I don't want to ask, as I'm sure I would end up procuring the proverb of my fist."

Vaughn smiled slyly. "Just avoid the face. A bloody nose could delay us leaving. One good one to the stomach, though, might make her reconsider eating for a few hours."

The "cowboy" is quickly moving up on my list of friends. We both smiled and laughed freely. I don't think I've heard Vaughn truly laugh before.

"I'm glad I have someone else who shares my sentiments… why did you come up here, anyways?"

"I spend a lot of time here," Vaughn said, "To get away from all of the people. I don't trust any of them as far as I could throw them… well, as far as you could throw them."

Vaughn was somewhat amusing, but a couple more of his jokes probably would have made me legitimately angry. So I thanked him for talking with me and excused myself. He growled when I tossed his hat onto ground. There's normal Vaughn for you.

It was still sprinkling, but I didn't really care. Chelsea was right. It was time to move on from her and make sure that her sacrifice did not go in vain. It would still be tough, but her actions only motivated me to work harder. I brushed my hand over my pocket to make sure that the camera was where I left it. Satisfied, I looked out to the horizon and promised her that I don't break my word.

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**Author's Notes:** It was tough to write, but it was inevitable. I'm kind of like Natalie and the others- writing from here on out without such a fun character to develop is going to be difficult. As always, please review on your thoughts or complaints!


	13. Chapter 13: Preparations

**Author's Notes:** So, in recent news, I'm still learning a lot of new things on this website. The latest of these adventures was the discovery that edits to documents do not automatically update the published story... so a lot of changes made on both this and "Captains of Our Lives" were lost. So don't think I was ignoring you, Mareep! I've tried to go back and fix what I could, but if you notice any glaring plot hole... there is probably a reason for it. As it is, I would like to take a moment to thank all who have reviewed- I really appreciate feedback. And even for those who didn't review, I can still see that you have viewed my story, which is more than enough. Well, this was yet another chapter that just wouldn't end... to think that I planned to fit the first half in the previous one. Ha! At least it sets everything up that is about to come. Don't worry if you are lost, we''ll see things start rolling soon!

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**Chapter 13- Preparations**

The rest of the day was as tense as I had anticipated. Mother must have felt bad, knowing my relationship with Chelsea, so she suggested that we lunch at Nick's diner for some bowls of fruit. What I really could have used was one of Pierre's smoothies.

No one would talk about what had happened in public, so I turned the conversation in another direction. The only logical route would be to mock Elliot for not drinking his milk. This only worked until Elliot finally gave in and had Nick bring him a small glass to appease me. Silence reigned for the rest of the meal.

It was work as usual after that until I got a bush message at about five o'clock from Mark reading "Scale back work tonight. Wait for me in morning."

I didn't know why Mark wanted me to slow down the shipping, but I tried to be obedient. I couldn't just stop working, as my family would not be particularly happy about that. I had an idea, though.

Elliot, as I've mentioned before, categorizes shipping for me to load into boxes. Well, when he took a restroom break and Mother and Gramps were out picking up the shipping, I used the time to move a number of the items to different groups for boxing. Many of the crates that we pack are shipped to the same customer with the same inventory every time the boat goes out. Gramps usually takes a look over these to make sure that the order is correct before we give them to Kirk and Vaughn. When Elliot returned, he didn't appear to notice the changes, and I acted as if everything was normal.

Mother cooked up some steamed onions and broccoli for dinner that night, so we ate at home- giving us an opportunity to finally talk about the latest Departure without fear of saying something wrong. I think that I was deliberately given the largest portion of the food.

"I'm sorry that Mark's sister is no longer on the Islands, Natalie," my mom said when we were finally settled at the table. I shrugged as I forked a piece of broccoli.

"Ehh. She was always a jerk anyways. Now I can actually have some privacy with Mark."

Gramps nearly had a heart attack on the spot. "Privacy? You are not allowed to have privacy with that man! Don't think that because I'm old that you can get away with that! I'm still pretty nimble when I have my staff with me!"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Now, Gramps, I don't believe that you are giving me the freedom that I probably warrant," I replied in a perfect Community voice. It didn't help, as Gramps would have gone into another rant had Mother not explained to him that I meant no actual ulterior motives.

Still, he grumbled through the meal while Elliot talked about this large and colorful fish that Denny had apparently showed him the other day that he thought was really cool. I listened with mild interest until Gramps started yelling again.

"Elliot, you blind bat! What have you done?" I looked behind me to see that Gramps had given up on his meal and was examining the boxes. I smiled a little when I saw the sudden terror on Elliot's face.

"I… What is it, Gramps?!" "This is a complete mess! A catastrophe! Why are Gannon's carved forks in here? Or these jars of peas from the farm? Look at this box! Salts from the old mine?"

Elliot jumped from box to box, examining the extent of the damage. The verdict: a total loss.

"I… I don't know what to say, Gramps." "Have I not told you where these things go before?"

Elliot rubbed his eyes from under his glasses. "Yes… yes, I know. I must have gotten confused. We'll… I'll go tell Kirk that I've made a mistake and will get these to him later."

Gramps was finally calming down, realizing that it was only a minor setback. "Very well… But Natalie, how did you not notice when you were packing things up?"

"I don't really think about what I'm putting in- I just focus on trying to consolidate space. I'm not accustomed to it being all wrong."

There is no question that Gramps is getting up there in age- he can be pretty bipolar. Just a minute earlier he was prepared to disown us. But the ways of the Community are to not enact harsh punishments. Old Taro didn't give any punishment at all.

"Well, alright, kids. Just be more careful in the future. I guess I shouldn't have got so upset- to make up for it, I'll make some ice cream for us tomorrow!"

Gramps's ice cream? Yuck. At least I wasn't Elliot, who had to go apologize to Kirk. I had, in fact, gotten away with Mark's random request with little attention. You shouldn't be so suprised. Well, I thought I had gotten away with it unscathed until I was lying in bed that night.

Elliot has recently learned to not bother me when I'm trying to sleep. But he made an exception this time, before Mother and Gramps returned home for the night.

"Natalie?" I rolled away from the sound and covered my exposed ear with a blanket. The immediate assumption was that Elliot was talking in his sleep again (a common occurrence). It wasn't until he called my name again with more vigor that I actually made a response.

"What could you possibly want, Elliot?" "I… I just wanted you to know that I'm not stupid."

He's tried making that argument before, with little success. I was a little curious as to why he would bring it up again.

"I know what you did," he continued, "I don't mess things up that bad, not even at my worst. I just want to know why."

I finally turned around this time so I could look at him from across the room. "What do you think, Elliot? I thought it would be funny to see you panicking."

Elliot, though, just wouldn't give it up. "Maybe, but I don't think so. Not this time. You've been around Mark and Chelsea a lot recently- Vaughn and Lily, too. It's not… how do I say it… normal. A lot of odd things have happened since then, especially considering that Chelsea is gone."

Fear was actually starting to creep up. Elliot, of all people, was suspicious of me. I could have denied it all. But, for some reason, I knew I could trust family.

"… You won't say anything, will you?" "Of course not! I'm not going to turn in my sister to be kicked… leave the Islands… But I have to tell you, if you keep it up, you will probably be next. Please just tell me that you'll stop…"

"If you knew what I knew, you'd know that isn't an option," I replied coolly. "But promise me this, Elliot. When this whole thing comes crashing down, make sure that our family isn't hurt. You have to do this for me."

Elliot obviously was not as confident as I was that we could pull it off. He didn't know Mark like I did. Mark tends to be shaky, but he hasn't failed yet.

Anyways, Elliot agreed- mainly to please me- before reiterating that he hoped that I would give up the whole thing. I would have cut the conversation there if I had it my way, but we ended up doing a little gossiping before the adults returned. After all, I needed Elliot to stay on my side.

As his note suggested, Mark showed up at my house just as we were cleaning the dishes after a pretty lousy breakfast. Seeing a determined looking Mark lifted my spirits a little.

My family feigned excitement after Mark knocked on the door and invited himself in. He shook hands with all members of the family before giving me a kiss on the cheek. I wiped at me cheeks as if I didn't want it- mainly I was hoping that it would somehow keep them from turning searing red.

Turns out, though, that he wasn't here for me. He wanted a conversation with Gramps. After Gramps had finished with his dish, Mark took him aside to sit down.

"I'm actually here to make a proposal, Mr. Taro," began Mark. "As you already know, I didn't have anything to give to you yesterday, due to the Departure, with it being my sister and all. As it turns out, besides getting some of that carryover out, I have a pretty large influx of stuff I need to be shipped out here in the next week. Crops are coming in pretty strong, and I 'd like to have some of Chelsea's belongings sold off- I don't want it lying around the house."

Gramps shook his head back in forth and made one of his strange sound effects. I don't understand either.

"What a mess! I've had a couple of other people tell me the same thing just last night! And we are already behind on the shipping!"

"That's actually what I'm here to talk about. Things are lonely on the farm now, and I'd like to see Natalie more. So, I have a proposal: I'll come to help your family out, you know, with the shipping when I'm not busy. I know you've been a farmer in the past, and I 'd love to have you over whenever you want."

So that's Mark's great plan. He obviously doesn't know Gramps that well. Gramps squinted even more than usual at the thought, and patted Mark on the shoulder.

"I 'ppreciate your vigor, young man. But we have a way of doing things… It wouldn't be normal for us to change." Mark would have continued to insist, but I shook my head. However, Mark used this as a cue to turn the argument another direction.

"You once lived on the Mainland, didn't you, Mr. Taro?" "A long while ago, yes." "Do you remember Grandparents Day?"

Taro scratched his head. "I remember them making something like that right around when I left." Mark smirked a little mischievously. "They've actually made it even bigger since then. They call it Elder's Week now. For a whole week, we are supposed to show respect to our elders by helping them out with whatever they need. It just happens to be Elder's Week right now, and I feel responsible to honor you by helping you with this setback."

Gramps stuck his neck up in the air impulsively. Mark was making an appeal to his pride, and it obviously worked. Still, Gramps at least tried to act humble.

"I… I suppose that it would be fine for a week. All this rain is making my knee hurt, anyways."

The two stood up and shook hands. "I'll come back over after lunch, once I'm done with all the things that I need to take care of on the farm."

Mark tilted his hat to me as he left. I guess he would tell me what the real plan was later. The truth was, though, I didn't really feel like waiting.

For lunch break, I initially joined my family on the way to Nick's diner until I was sure that neither Vaughn nor Lily was there. Seeing that they weren't, I told Mother that I just remembered that I had plans to meet some people at Haila's. It was only a minor lie, something I've become quite used to. But I do feel a little bad about always tricking my family, especially now that Elliot has caught on. He probably realized I was making things up on that occasion, too.

Still, my efforts did not go in vain. I actually got a combo victory, as Vaughn and Lily were sitting together at a table. As there was no one else, there was only one thing that they could have been talking about.

The two were on a constant lookout to see if anyone was listening, so they spotted me pretty quickly. I was about to sit next to Vaughn, but Lily pulled out a chair next to her. I considered sitting next to Vaughn anyways, but I decided that there was no point in making a scene.

"So," I said quietly, "This is kind of fun. I guess we're having our first meeting without having either Mark or Chelsea ordering us what to do." Vaughn was as unwelcoming as ever. "Our first time that involves you being around, that is," he said before scattering some strawberry sauce over a banana on his plate.

Vaughn was probably trying to be a little dry, but it did remind me that they had known about this far longer than I had.

"I see," I replied, "I guess your significance to coming events means that you are already know what we can be expecting in the next few days."

Lily was about to speak, but Haila came up ask if I wanted something to eat. I got one of those banana things that Vaughn had. I later regretted it when I found out that the stupid strawberry sauce would cost me a whole twentieth of my Quota. But that's a story for later.

Thankfully, the service at the restaurant is below par (like most places on the Islands), so we didn't worry about further interruptions once the food arrived and Haila had ripped me out of my money. Lily began promptly.

"You would not be incorrect. Mark told Vaughn earlier when he came to see the animals, and he subsequently told me. There are two key elements for us to get off of the Islands- both revolving around Kirk's boat. First off, we want it to be away from Sprout Island, where most of our main threats are. That engine is so loud that we couldn't hope to pull away once people realized what was going on. Daytime, we would be in plain sight- at night, we would have no way to muffle the sound. The engine doesn't start up fast enough for a daring escape.

"That's why Mark's going to help your family with the shipping. He wants to overload Kirk with as much work as possible. Due to the excessive of work, hopefully Kirk will get the idea to move the boat to the Verdure dock to cut down on transport distance instead of the Sprout dock that he usually keeps it overnight. If he doesn't make the proposal, than we need you to hint at it as being a good thought."

I liked the sneakiness of the plan, but there were still holes. "Kirk still has the key. Is someone going to eliminate him?"

Vaughn took over from that point with a thin smile on his face. He reached into a pocket on the inside of his vest to grab something. I was expecting some kind of poison, but he just wanted to pull out a toothpick to use. Way to get my hopes up. He did make up for it, though.

"Have you ever heard of hydrogen peroxide?"

I shook my head. I couldn't care less about ox hides. Killing animals is bad.

"Well, it's a useful chemical that we are actually allowed to bring on the Islands. It also isn't such a good idea to ingest a lot of it. I could try explaining what it is, but you wouldn't understand a word I tell you."

He had a point, but I wanted to prove him wrong anyways. So, I told him to tell me. He went on and on about this oxide that messes with your inside. Reasonable enough. It's not lethal in proper concentrations, though.

"Anyways, Kirk and I usually eat dinner together at Nick's after we are done working. He always has a glass of water with his meal. When he isn't looking, I'm going to slip some of the stuff in his drink. It's a clear liquid, so he won't notice. That should make him sick enough that he won't be able to take the boat out."

On that note, we were definitely making things too complicated. "If he does that, then you can take tomorrow's shipping to the Mainland alone and have the authorities there come and get us rather than us trying to go get them."

"It's a nice thought, but as we suspected, Kirk's already told me that Regis would like me to stay on the Islands for the foreseeable future. He says that Regis wants me to help him out with something, but it's more likely because I had connections with Chelsea. Maybe I'll get to go if Kirk is decomissioned, but neither me nor Mark is too optimistic. We have to assume that we have to resort to the second plan. Even when I do go to the Mainland, Kirk rarely gives me the opportunity to run around on my own. Otherwise, we would have spread things out more so I could have given the agency a heads up after the church incident."

"But if he doesn't give you the keys," I began, "how are we going to take the boat?"

Lily spoke next. "That's where I come in. When Kirk falls ill, I'm going to act as nurse by telling him that I recognize the 'disease' he's come down with. He'll be bedridden his room all day, as I'll be continuing to give him doses of the peroxide. When he's lying prostrate on the bathroom floor, I will be searching for the key. I'll take off with it at the first opportunity past eight o'clock tomorrow night. You three will need to be ready for me then."

I wasn't impressed. "Won't this stuff taste different? He'll catch on immediately. Could Mark not conjure up something more reliable?"

Vaughn shrugged. "I doubt Kirk will notice. He chomps on those stupid rolls he always gets between every sip, so he'll probably never pick up the taste. It's not like the water around here tastes that clean anyways. I'll figure something out if he complains- his first instinct will be to blame Nick, not me. As for the second question, Mark said that he would get in trouble if he used anything that could seriously harm him. If it was up to me, I assure you that it would be uglier."

He was rather empathic with that last statement. "You and Kirk aren't close?" I inquired sarcastically.

Vaughn sneered. "Kirk was the only person that I actually spent time with before Lily asked me to look for the Departure victims and this whole collage came together. I had almost come to trust him as a friend. Imagine my feelings when I realized that he had been murdering people."

I couldn't imagine it. The only person that close to me that had done anything bad was Pierre, and even his actions are pretty petty compared to what Kirk has done. Vaughn was much like myself- violently thrown into this whole conspiracy with little warning. But he definitely had a vengeful edge, and he didn't have a family to worry about protecting.

Little did I know, but Lily was actually annoyed with Vaughn's response. "Try to not bestow so much that you kill him," she mused curtly, "These people need to be brought to proper justice, not lynched when the Community goes down."

Vaughn broke his toothpick in half, either because he was done with it or because his temper was rising. "Are you really trying to say that I want to stir up trouble? You brought me into this. You should trust that I'm doing my part." "So, is that why you stopped Regis when you saw that he needed to go back to the warehouses?"

Burn. Vaughn actually chuckled at this. I was beginning to worry that we were going to attract attention; thankfully, though, no one of the few people left eating was really interested in what we were talking about.

"Like he told me what he was going back for? Like he even told ahead of time that he was going back at all? Do you think that I'm his personal valet or something?"

"It's not the worst possibility that crossed my mind. I didn't think anything of it at the time, as I too was caught up in the emotions of the situation. Just last night, though, it occurred to me just how strange the event was. Regis took the boat all the way back to Verdure just for a balloon pump? Or is it more likely that someone gave him a hint that he could find somebody sneaking around where they shouldn't be?"

Vaughn shook his head, dropped the toothpick fragments, and stood up to leave. "I'm not going to take any more of this stupidity. Have a nice day, ladies."

Lily didn't seem to realize that my sympathies lied with Vaughn, as she addressed me once he had stormed out of the building.

"Kirk and Will are able to travel to the Mainland- both are involved. Is it a coincidence that Vaughn is the only other? Tell me, Natalie, that the same train of thought crossed you?"

"Not really. It seems to me that if Vaughn was really an informant for Regis, he would have said something long ago. You know as well as I do that they don't need to actually have evidence to give someone the Departure."

That shut her up pretty good. Still, she thought it was a good idea to keep talking with me.

"I didn't want to sound irreverent. Losing Chelsea was incredibly tragic. We'd be a lot safer if it wasn't her that was taken."

I agreed, but the words stung me in a bad way.

"Are you trying to say that you wish that Mark would be dead right now instead of Chelsea? If so, then I'll sock yo-." "- I was never pursuing tha-." "-Yes, Lily, you were. You just don't realize it because your nose is stuck so far in the air. Feel free to apologize to the rest of us when you show a little bit of humanity."

And thus I followed out in the same fashion as Vaughn. Maybe two people walking out on her would make her realize just how cold and calculating she can be.

I was in a pretty sour mood after that until Mark finally returned to my house to assist with the shipping. He was assigned to go out and gather stock like Mother and Gramps do after he had brought everything he wanted from his farm. Before he left, I told him in private that I had already talked with Vaughn and Lily some. He nodded and replied that he would fill in on the rest of the details the next morning.

When he returned with what he had at the ranch, I saw just how realistic Mark's plan was becoming. Bucket after bucket of cabbage and beans led the way. There was also a ridiculous amount of eggs and wool prepared to be sold on the Mainland. That's when it occurred to me that Chelsea and Mark must have been working on at least this part of the plan before the events at the warehouses. There is no way that all of this was harvested in two days. I had noticed that the amount received from Mark and Chelsea had been tapering off some, but I had just assumed that it was because they were busy with other things.

That alone would have been enough to merit two trips to the Mainland, as Kirk's boat isn't really that big. But that was far from all- we still had the things that we had failed to ship from last time. We also had an unusually large amount of other products come in. Besides the usual chaos of shipping, we had a collection of leather belts and some odd trinkets in a box with the letter "L" carved into the side.

The boat wasn't scheduled to leave for the Mainland again until tomorrow at lunch for the bazaar. Kirk has a rather erratic timetable for when he has to go out. Sometimes, he opens up a booth advertised as selling authentic Community merchandise at markets, while other times he has to deliver goods to regular customers (which is more frequently the case). I'm sure he works all that stuff out when he's on the Mainland, but we don't have any way to know until he posts it on the daily log on our kitchen wall. Normally we have about a Mainland week to really prepare before he needs everything organized for the larger loads, so we are typically ready to go. Of course, he missed his routine appointment last time, so we would have to make that up.

I wasn't exaggerating about the amount of things prepared for the market, as even Kirk's jaw dropped when the three gatherers brought him to see it. After staring at our inundated boxes for a moment, he finally found his voice.

"All of this… plus what was missed last time?"

"Indeed," answered Mother, "Thank goodness we had Mark helping, or we could never have finished. I hope this isn't a problem."

"I… well, it's just going to take a long time. I'll have to give it an early start tomorrow morning, as it will take me several trips to have it all taken care of. Expect an awful lot of walking, too."

Kirk turned to leave, but I jumped out and grabbed him by the arm.

"About that. It seems to me that if we are going to have to make all of these trips, maybe you should move the boat over to the dock on this island so we can move faster."

Kirk winced a little at the thought of changing things up, but he eventually nodded.

"That makes sense, I guess. I'll move it over tonight so we can be ready to go. Just don't start until I get here. No one needs to be trying to load things onboard without me."

My family probably thought that Kirk just wanted to make sure he was there to help with the moving. Mark and I, of course, assumed that he didn't want anyone to be around the boat when he wasn't there in case someone tried to pull a fast one.

Elliot eyed me suspiciously but ambled to our room without saying a word. Gramps went out for a walk, and Mother began to prepare a dinner in celebration of another job well done. Gramps's ice cream would come later.

Mark was still with me, but he said that he needed to leave.

"But Mark, you need to stay for din-." "I really would, but it's important that I get going. I have other things to take care of."

He did stick his fist out to me with a childish grin, which I casually bumped.

"That said... Good work, Natalie," he added, "phase one of getting out of here is complete."


	14. Chapter 14: Echoes of the Mind

**Author's Note:** Yes, its's incredibly long. Sorry. At least this time there is a lot going on (though we aren't done yet!). This chapter gets rather intense, so please leave any thoughts! Once again, I seem to have lost some of my changes, but I don't remember where... so tell me if you see anything. Don't worry, I'm done talking.

* * *

**Chapter 14- Echoes of the Mind**

I woke up late that morning after a surprisingly long sleep to the soft sound of rain pattering on the metal roof. Adding to the clatter was the clear ring of plates being moved around in the kitchen. Everyone must have been already awake.

After slipping on some clothes well suited for wet weather (my usual turtleneck and boots, I mean), I joined the family in the kitchen. Not only was there the family, but Mark was sitting at the kitchen table, having brought doughnuts from Haila's café for breakfast. I was embarrassed that he would see me looking so groggy, but Mark didn't seem to notice. Or he was just being nice and ignored it.

"What are you doing here?" I said, practically moaning.

"Kirk said we would be loading the boat up early today," he replied calmly, "and I wanted to be here to help. I brought some food so Mrs. Felicia wouldn't to worry about cooking." He continued after taking a bite out of his powdered food. "Unfortunately, Kirk became sick last night, and we won't be going anywhere today. Still, I didn't see the point in letting the doughnuts go to waste."

I joined them at the table with a casual shrug. It was a pleasant meal up until Gramps studied Kirk's timetable on the wall and told us that we should be preparing for his next trip in two days. After all the work we had done, everyone ranging from Mark to my mom stared at him disapprovingly until he agreed that we could deal with it later.

Once we had finished breakfast and the rain had died down, Mark and I went on a walk together. We didn't say a word until he grimaced after approaching and rubbing the ropes holding up the bridge to Sprout Island with his hand.

"What's your problem?" I inquired.

"Nothing if the rain doesn't come back. I need it dry by tonight." "Why?" "So we can light it on fire." It was a little shocking, but I remembered quite well falling halfway through it earlier this season.

"I always hated this bridge anyways," I said with pleasure, "you're probably in luck, as Gramps said something earlier about the pain shifting to his gut… I'm curious to know why you want it gone, though."

"If we can put this bridge out of commission, we should be able to launch the boat without fear of interruption from this island. We'll get the engine started, light this up as soon as we hear activity, and make our way back to the dock. Well, only I would need to be here. There's no point in risking anyone else being so far away from the boat."

"Why bother lighting it on fire? Cutting through the ropes would be much faster."

Mark shook his head as he bent down to the ground. "I would agree with you if there weren't ropes running through the planks that attach to these posts. You'd have to cut all four of the supports as opposed to lighting an already prepared coating of gasoline. Plus, a wall of fire is a much more permanent deterrent than some cut ropes. If it was only the ropes, they'd still be able to hobble halfway across before they could leap for land. I know it sounds stupid, but you have to trust me when I say every second counts when it comes to a gunshot."

"Guns? Guns aren't allowe-…" I stopped when I saw Mark's amused expression. Of course Regis had one stored somewhere.

We spent another few minutes walking along the Sprout beach before I was quite bored.

"So, what are we supposed to be doing before tonight?" I baited. Mark only shrugged. "Whatever you want. I would advise hanging out at the inn. That way we can make sure that we're there if something goes wrong with Lily."

I guess that means Lily did manage to work her way into being Kirk's nurse. So far, nothing had gone wrong. A little too perfect, actually. It disconcerted me a bit.

Vaughn was already at Carol's inn, sitting in on some sort of motivational speech that Nathan was giving. There were a few other people listening, such as Lanna, Denny, Julia, and Elliot… Elliot? Sitting awfully close to Julia, too. It upset my stomach a little thinking about it.

As I wanted to make sure to sabotage their "date," I sat down on Julia's other side in what was a circular formation of chairs in the inn's lobby. Julia didn't seem to mind- maybe I was wrong about those two after all.

Nathan's discourse was eerily similar to the one's I've heard at the church- minus the presence of the Harvest Goddess. Instead, he focused more on perfection and glory of man and how all society will eventually evolve to the status of the Community if we kept strong. Whatever. Turns out that Nathan is just as good at Island propaganda even without the Harvest Goddess.

Everyone clapped with moist eyes when he had finished and began to file out. I spoke a few words with Julia before she and Elliot left together. The only people remaining in the lobby were me, Mark, Vaughn, and Carol, who was at her desk playing some sort of board (bored) game. Maybe she should be studying her comprehensive book of diseases a little harder.

We didn't have anything better to do, so the three of us sat at a table playing various card games that we taught each other. We definitely did our best to have a good time, but the anxiety and nervous glances around the room were obvious between every deal.

Lunch followed at about one o'clock. Mark told me and Vaughn that we shouldn't have to sit around all day at the inn staring at each other and fidgeting, so he'd handle it himself as long as we'd meet him at seven thirty at the ranch. We didn't argue. The two of us went to the docks after lunch where Denny would give us some fishing tips. I never understood the purpose of fishing, and we weren't allowed to eat them. We spent a couple hours with him before I was ready to get moving again. I was partially spurred because Denny looked like he was going to get us sick with something. Four o'clock. Though we had agreed to not do any shipping, I found myself willing to do something useful. Gramps wouldn't have any trouble finding me chores to do. I regretted my decision when Gramps put me to weeding and Mother recommended that I wash the dishes. Six o'clock. The night rounded up with Mirabelle inviting us for dinner at her place. We ate and everyone else conversed. I was too nervous to participate. I looked at their clock as I helped give dishes to Mirabelle for cleaning. Seven-thirty.

After searching for any possible method of wasting the day, I quickly found myself wishing that I could freeze the moment and never have to go meet with Mark and Vaughn. But I did have an obligation, and thread of time keeps moving on and on. If only one could snap the thread.

I excused myself, citing that I wasn't feeling very well. I did go back to my house, but only long enough to dig the old camera out of my dresser. Mark was in the farmhouse, while Vaughn was not present.

"He's getting some gasoline. Here, could you help me with this?" By "this" Mark meant the evidence from the church arson. He, of course, took the large plank in the container brought back by Vaughn while I took the small sample (which was mine, if you remember) and the fingerprint Chelsea took. I led the way, making sure no one was around while he followed with the more cumbersome burden. Rather than loading them directly to the boat, we hide all of the items in some nearby brush- out of plain sight, but close enough for quick removal.

We met Vaughn at the bridge where the two men commented on the potential for rain. Deciding that there was nothing to be done if the rain did wash everything off, Vaughn handed me one of the heavy cans he was holding.

"Just spread these as generously as you can. No one should think anything of it, as they'll think it's just still moist. That's assuming no one sees us actually dumping this stuff."

Thankfully, no one did. Eliza is usually wandering around at about this time, but I'm sure that she didn't want to get any potential mud on her shoes.

I poured the combustible liquid towards the Sprout side of the bridge, making sure that I didn't neglect even the bottom of the support ropes, which I rubbed on with my hand. Once I had completely emptied my can, I handed it to Vaughn for returning it to wherever it's stored. I had never actually seen this generator room, so I followed with curiosity. Mark came as well, after hiding a couple of items nearby the Verdure end of the bridge.

We were just coming upon Regis's beautiful quota-defying mansion when I felt a hand land on my shoulder and a feminine voice began to speak. "Where are you going with those?"

I almost crumbled to the ground in shock, but I found the energy I needed to face the culprit. I wasn't quite as worried when I saw that it was Lanna.

Vaughn actually answered the question as he raised the three cans. "Kirk's boat was out of fuel. We were filling it up."

Lanna eyed him for a moment, almost as if she was suspicious. But she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "Ok! By the way, how about you three come hang out at my house? I have a surprise!"

I immediately turned to Mark and Vaughn. Vaughn shook his head with wide eyes- Mark didn't look much better himself. At least he was able to give an answer.

"I really am sorry, Lanna… but we can't come."

That didn't stop her from wrapping him around the shoulder and begin to drag him towards her house, assuming the rest of us would follow.

"No, no, you really should! Someone's going to be there, and it might be rude to say no!"

Mark quit resisting, so Vaughn and I eventually followed after giving each other doubtful glances. We couldn't leave without Mark anyways. Lily was supposed to escape at the first opportunity past eight o'clock- not necessarily at eight o'clock exactly. It wouldn't hurt her to wait a little if she had to.

Mark did have one last question through the chokehold he was in. "How… how long should this take?" Lanna wasn't one for unambiguous answers. "Oh, I don't know… as long as it takes, I guess!"

Well that's encouraging. Upon entering her house, Lanna took us through her creepy hall of self portraits, her bedroom, and into a living room that also housed her fishing supplies. But nothing was nearly as "encouraging" as the sight of Will sitting at a table patiently smiling at us. Did you notice the sarcasm?

Vaughn growled when he saw Will, but Mark tried to make the best of it. They shook hands.

"Good to see you, Will. Might I ask what brings you here?"

"Oh, I was actually the one that asked Lanna to find you and Natalie. I'm glad that Vaughn could come as well. You see, there was something that I wanted to show you."

He motioned to Lanna, who jumped to his side. He whispered in her ear, causing her to giggle. She nodded and looked to us.

"I'll go get it!" she said. "I shall be right back!"

With Lanna gone, the rest of us awkwardly sat down at a couch across a multipurpose that was both used for eating and housing models of common Island fish. Because everyone wants to have creepy fish staring at you with one eye when you're eating. Let me repeat that again: we sat down awkwardly. Vaughn was on my left, Mark on my right.

"So," began Will, "having a nice day?" He was clearly trying to just burn time.

"It's actually been quite nasty out there," Vaughn retorted, "I'm surprised the waves didn't cause you to get seasick on that yacht of yours."

Mark nudged me on the shoulder, which knocked me into Vaughn, indicating for him to be quiet- I considered given Vaughn a high-five.

Will just smiled uneasily. "Come, Vaughn, let's not be uncivilized. The ship I use is for my work here on the Islands- Mainland recruiting and customs onto the Islands. Surely you know this."

Vaughn apparently didn't notice the warning Mark had given… or he had simply chosen to ignore it. "Actually, having moved to the Islands not long before yourself, I remember you coming here with it. You clearly owned it in the past."

This time, even I was becoming a little bothered by Vaughn's straightforwardness. Still, Will kept his cool.

"I kept it because it was beneficial for the Community. You shouldn't judge my current salary based off of it- a quota is a quota."

Mark interrupted before Vaughn could spit something else out by standing up. "I need to use the restroom. Would that be alright, Will?" Will waved towards Lanna's bathroom. "It's not mine, but I'm sure Lanna would be fine."

As he walked out towards Lanna's bedroom, Mark made sure to bump Vaughn personally even harder. He got the message this time, as he didn't speak after that. In fact, no one did, which would turn out to be quite a bad thing. We could hear Mark faintly opening and closing cabinet drawers from the restroom. I wasn't sure what he was doing, but I figured it didn't have anything to do with the normal functions of a bathroom.

Will glanced sideways towards the bathroom door, which prompted me to take some kind of action.

"You know, Will, I was surprised that you weren't at Carol's earlier for Nathan's speech. I thought you would be the kind of person to like those type of events."

"Then you don't fully understand me," Will answered half-heartedly. He was still primarily focused on Mark. "Please be quick, Mark!" he said with a raised voice. The sound of a toilet flushing was shortly followed by the sound of Mark on his way back. Just before he could take a seat, Will curtly ordered for him to stop.

"What's the matter?" Mark answered with obvious discomfort.

"I apologize, but I feel that I must check your pockets."

Mark shook his head as he reached into his back pocket himself.

"Don't bother. I just have these with me. They belonged to Chelsea- I was going to give them to Natalie to be shipped, but I guess I forgot."

"These" were two items- a matchbox and a bottle of some kind. Even I bought the story, but Will smiled darkly as he took them from Mark's hands.

"Of course, everyone is allowed some matches or a lighter. It's only reasonable. Acetone, though. Usually used as fingernail polish, I believe. It also happens to be a handy accelerant. As I recall, I allowed Lanna to bring it on Islands for use- not Chelsea. You weren't planning on setting something to fire as a distraction for leaving the building, were you?"

Of course we all shook our heads no, which just gave Will a reason to chuckle. "It was a rhetorical question. It's a good thing I didn't give you any time to consider trying to do it in there. I would have barricaded you in the restroom had you tried that."

I could feel something seriously wrong with my throat, like I had swallowed something horrifyingly slimy yet sharp. Will was going to kill us. Even worse, I was going to die. I knew that I was going to die. I didn't want to die. Ok, we were going to die. I could picture Vaughn and Mark being strangled to death, but I simply couldn't imagine it happening to me. It wouldn't. They'd die, and I'd somehow get away to live forever. No. That's stupid. I suddenly decided that I should have paid attention more during services at the chapel. The one that I burned to the ground. Wow, I really would be screwed.

My hyperventilation thankfully abated when Lanna came back. I could never have been so glad to see Lanna. Will wouldn't kill us in front of her.

That was a partial truth- but not the good kind. After Lanna handed Will a box she had brought back, he whispered something else into her ear.

"You want Regis here? Of course!"

Will looked irritated- if his intentions weren't clear enough before, hearing this was the final kick to spill the bucket. At least it probably meant he wouldn't kill us until Regis arrived, which would give us some time to think of a way out. Once again, Lanna bounced out of her house. I initially regretted that I hadn't said anything to her along the lines of "he's about to kill us," but I did eventually come to terms with it. She was clearly going to believe any excuse Will gave. There was a reason neither Mark nor Vaughn had said anything, either.

With her gone, Will smiled grimly as he opened the ornate box that he was now holding. He removed several tickets that had been resting inside. "I had meant to give these to you, good for a free daytrip with me on my yacht. Unfortunately, your intentions were made quite clear enough from this visit. Had you not been so paranoid, you may have gotten away from this alive." He said this as he tossed the tickets to the ground and yanked on the box, revealing a compartment below the one the tickets were in. Inside this was a new item that he examined in his hand. I had never seen one before, but I had heard enough descriptions of it- the gun. It was a small black one, but it was obviously still lethal. I know that Vaughn and Mark were thinking the same thing that I was- we wish we had one of those things.

"You don't have to do this," Mark tried to plead, "It's not Community ethic."

Will chuckled at this, still holding the gun in the palm of his hand. "You still do not understand, do you? I have little care for the Community."

Mark's face drained of color. There was no reasoning to be made, so I decided that there was no reason to try.

"You're a monster," I spat out, "And to think that I actually liked you!"

I was surprised Will didn't shoot me right then, but, looking back, Will had a unusually level head for a psychopath.

"Now, Natalie… let's not be uncivilized. You ought to be thankful for me. Regis wanted to have both you and Mark given the Departure after your incident with his… incriminating documents. I told him that doing so would risk inciting an uprising. Now I can see that it was a great mistake on my part, as you are most assuredly plotting something against the Islands."

"I thought you didn't care less about the Community," Vaughn grumbled.

Will leaned back in his chair and adjusted his jacket. "Forgive me for being misleading. The Community talks much about permissivism, but it gets so caught up in callling certain things 'right' that it misses the point that none of it really matters at all. I don't care for the forced morals of the Community, but I would hate to give up my kingdom."

"Kingdom?" we all mumbled in unison.

"I have some noble blood, but I will never be a ruler. Regis is my uncle, which you may already know, who came out here to run his families mining business. Turns out that he became infatuated with the Community. Unfortunately, his love wasn't enough to keep the Islands afloat- no pun intended- when he became Head of the Community without my money. This was my chance to make myself monarch."

"You're still sick," I insisted.

"Don't patronize me. You see, I've studied in the world's finest universities. And do you know what I've learned about the meaning of life?" All of us shook our heads. "Absolutely nothing," he answered, "A long time ago, this whole universe blew into existence, and one day it's going to burn out. There's no purpose, there's no right and wrong, and there is absolutely no reason to act as if there is."

Even Mark was becoming rather distraught with Will. "If that's the case, why don't you just blow your own brains out and spare us who still believe in ideals the trouble of having to deal with you?"

Will raised his finger, as if in acknowledgment that it was a good question. I was actually more interested in what I saw behind him, through the window in Lanna's bedroom. Mark and Vaughn were looking directly at it, too, and for good reason. Out in the night, Lily's wide eyes could be spotted frozen in shock, angled in our direction. I knew that we needed to try communicating something with her if we had any chance of getting out of this mess, but there was simply no way to speak without tipping off Will. Once again, Mark had a plan.

… I must confess though that it wasn't what I was expecting. Rather than some sort of sign language, Mark casually stroked the lampshade of the light source next to the couch we were on, while squeezing his other fist. Lily didn't get it at first either, or at least that was what I thought based off of the look on her face. After about his tenth stroke (with increasing intensity), though, her face lit up and she disappeared from the window.

While all of this was going on, Will had already gone into his monologue. I guess you might want to hear it.

"I have considered suicide in the past. In fact, I came alarmingly close to it at one point. There was just one thing stopping me- fear of what would come. Not the kind of 'I don't know where I'm going' but the fact that I knew what would happen, and I couldn't bring myself to accept it. I didn't love the world, but I shuddered at the thought of the synapses of the brain shutting down and my person being completely annihilated. So, I took the other option- to enjoy every last moment of the time I had. If I was poor, I probably would have taken my life. But I was in a position to exercise my desires. So, I convinced my father to outfit me a ship and traveled the world in search of that which could satisfy me.

"The rest is history. My journey led me here, my answer at last. A place where I can implement complete control, and allow others to take the fall. Kirk, a weak coward who will do anything you tell him to. Regis, a sentimental fool. He was notorious for his liberal use of the Departures to save the Islands in the past, but he wouldn't dare do the same to his dear Sabrina. I had to order it, as I was present when Sabrina mentioned she had been in the wrong place in the wrong warehouse. Regis only agreed because I assured him that Kirk would take her to the Mainland rather than killing her like the rest. I even tricked Regis into trusting me even further when I paid Kirk to lie to him about it when I was away. Of course, I wouldn't actually risk leaving her alive.

"Yes, I had the perfect arrangement. Unfortunately, you have jeopardized this. Regis, for unknown reasons, failed to destroy his business documents like I had instructed after the Sabrina incident. I should have just done the deed myself, but I wanted him to still be under the impression that he is in control. I'm not angry with you- in fact, I respect your desire to overthrow my despotism. It is the natural thing to do- I don't know why so many here suppress their anger. But you three... it's almost like a game between us."

We had by this point just finished our interlude with Lily. "It's not a game, Will. It's crime," Mark spat out. Literally. He spit towards Will's feet.

Will only laughed. "If it's not a game, then what is it? I could be a complete nihilist, but I appreciate my sanity. To each his own, I suppose."

This time, it was my turn to laugh. It was odd, considering that Will still had a gun in his hand. But it was just too funny. At least no one else was holding their tongue by this point either.

Such was the state of things when Lanna led a solemn Regis into the room. She actually yelped when she saw Will holding the weapon in his hand.

"Will! I'm sorry, but I do not think tha-." "It's not what it looks like." "…Really?" "Yes." "… Well, I most likely trust you, then." Lanna inexplicably moved to sit next to us, even though that would put her directly in front of the gun's firing tube-thing. I had the idea to use her as a human shield when the moment came, but Will waved her away.

"Lanna… I am thankful for your help tonight, but could you just move to another room for a minute? … One of your posters looked crooked. Several, actually. And I think you left a fishing pole outside." Of course she said yes and promptly obeyed her orders. In the meantime, Will gave a brief testimony of what had happened during the course of the night. Regis nodded at the end.

"I reckon it will be Departure for them tomorrow morning."

Will buried his head in his hands. "Do you think a more… immediate course of action should be taken? Considering the seriousness of their breach?"

Regis sat down and contemplated. And then contemplated some more. And then finished up by contemplating before finally answering.

"Actually, I just got the idea that we ought to use that pistol of yours and then make it look like they were in an 'accident.'"

Will rolled his eyes where it was only visible to us. But he smiled as he played around with his gun, apparently preparing it for use. "A fine idea, Mr. Regis."

"You might not want to do that. The sound will draw attention," spoke up Mark.

Will shook his head. "Most people on the Islands won't even recognize the crack of a gunshot. Those that do can easily be manipulated into believing any story we give them. And now, who first?" He lifted the gun and aimed it towards Mark. "You seem to be the leader of this brigade." Instead of pulling the trigger, he then shifted his sight towards me. I instinctively squirmed backwards into the couch. "Or perhaps should we follow that sexist social convention 'ladies first'? I always felt so inauthentic when I talked such." Finally, he had to direct his attention to Vaughn. "Then, of course, there is the silent sidekick that hasn't added much to the conversation. I must say that I would miss your presence the least… but it would only be wise to remove the largest threat first."

Will once again began to turn towards Mark, and I leaned forward in my chair ready to pounce. Mark and Vaughn appeared to be doing the same. It would be our last chance. Maybe there was hope if we acted in unison. Before Will had finished his return to Mark, though, he abruptly lowered his firearm.

"… Regis?" "Yes." "It seems awful odd that they've made little effort to escape. Is it possible that we're missing something?" "… Is someone else helping them?"

Will, despite his demure exterior, seemed to have the pulse of the Community figured out. I could hear him agonizingly exhale "Lily" just as he began to raise his arm once again- this time with more authority, ready to kill. His countenance looked like a light bulb had turned on, as if he had just discovered our whole plan.

Fortunately for us, though, while the light bulb in his head may have illuminated, all of the physical ones shut off with no warning whatsoever. We were enveloped in complete darkness.

Several things had happened within three seconds of the blackout. One, I could hear Lanna's voice as she bounded into the room with panic in her screeching voice. There was also a large amount of scuffling around and male voices swearing. The last and worst were the two large cracking noises accompanied by flashes of light that reverberated through the room. Will had fired his gun.

I wasn't injured, but as I felt both sides of the couch to determine if my companions were ok, I realized that neither of them were still in the room. I almost failed to move at first, as I was a little mad that neither Mark nor Vaughn had grabbed me by the arm and brought me with them. I don't know if it was because they were busy wrestling with the other two men, or if they thought that I knew what to do. Either way, I had to get out of that house.

Doing so was surprisingly easy, but my breath would reveal just how scared I was. I almost forgot where to go when stepping out into the fresh air before making a dash towards the bridge. I wished that we could have taken Will's yacht, just to trash it, but that is obviously too slow to get going. Back on topic, it seemed so quiet that I was a little worried that Mark and Vaughn were still stuck in the house.

Actually, I just couldn't hear anything over my panting. I became painfully aware that I wasn't alone when I literally ran into someone, who returned my feminine yelp. I could just make out in the dark that it was Lily.

"Lily! What have you been doing?!" "I will tell later, come on!"

Though I was still not affectionate towards Lily, we ran towards the bridge hand in hand. In her other hand, she was dumping something across the bridge, presumably more gasoline. At the halfway mark, I could hear the first voices of pursuit behind us. There were also indications of movement ahead of us.

Those noises were coming from Mark, who was standing next to the bridge holding two items, which must have been those he left by the bridge earlier. He began to yell once he saw us.

"Come on, come on! We need to do this now!"

Simultaneously, there were shouts across the water from Sprout. The booming voice belonged to Regis.

"Someone stop them! Stop them!"

I could hear the sounds of doors opening and closing between the shouts as people were trying to determine what the point of the noise was. Now we were in trouble.

But at least we were across the bridge.

"Natalie, Lily, move away from the bridge! Get to the boat, now!"

Lily was off in a instant. I had no idea she could move so fast, probably because I was so used to seeing her in ridiculous dresses.

Unfortunately, we had let go of each other once across the bridge, leaving me on my own. I promptly slid to the ground in some mud, having tried to move too hastily.

I wasn't the only one in trouble. I was anticipating the bridge going up in a long line of fire immediately, but instead I was greeted with the sound of Mark in a struggle. Someone had followed Regis's command to try and stop us. I couldn't tell who it was, but I could see two forms twisting each other around. It must have been a tough situation if Mark hadn't been able to get out of it quickly. At least he was able to speak.

"Natalie! The lighter and the spray can… on the ground! …Do it! Just keep your body away!"

Yes. You heard correctly. Mark just told me to do it. Well, how hard could it be? I've lit candles before, and this wouldn't be any different.

I crawled across the mud and scooped the two tools into my hand. The bridge wasn't far way. I didn't know what the purpose of the spray can was, but I decided that I ought to try spouting its contents in the line of the lighter.

I didn't have much time to think, as I could see where the planks of the bridge were beginning to bounce up and down, meaning that someone was just beginning to cross from the other side. Probably Will.

I pushed down on the lid of the spray can and could hear the soft fizzly noise that it produced (it's the only way I can describe it). Stepping out onto the first board, I held the can looking downwards about half a foot above the bridge. I began to count down from three but ditched that when someone fired another shot. So, moving as quickly as my body allowed, I used my free hand to hold the lighter just between the can and the bridge and pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you weren't disappointed by the amount of action. Before you review, though, you should know one thing- Will is actually my favorite bachelor in this game! His character is only being portrayed as a fraud here only because it ties into the whole theme of the story. No other character can fit the role. Well, that's my excuse for that. I'm not trying to bash anyone. I hope you liked the mild surprise. I expect the last chapter will take some time to finish, so don't be wondering if I'll post. I'll finish, I promise!

A special thanks to Winter Oak for letting me know that someone is still reading this ;)


	15. Chapter 15: Rain of Fire

**Author's Notes:** BONUS CHAPTER! Seriously, though. I had hoped to make this the last chapter in order to be left with a nice, good number. Unfortunately, my goal turned out to be out of reach . This being said, it's better to end on a weird number than to try cramming the conclusion together. That's just sloppy writing- I have enough things to try dealing with as it is.

There isn't anything incredibly exciting about this chapter, but it has to be here. Sorry to disappoint anyone with this after such a long wait! Please, be on the lookout for any grammar mistakes or anything else I've done (my personal favorite: mixing up Mark and Will!).

* * *

**Chapter 15- Rain of Fire**

Apparently, a spray can has the pretty awesome ability to make fire really jump off of a lighter. This unexpected burst of combustion managed to catch the gasoline layered onto the bridge. To be honest, the actual resulting fire wasn't quite as impressive as I was hoping for. I'm not sure if would have even spread all the way across had Lily not poured on more just before then. A large amount of that poured on by me, Mark, and Vaughn had already evaporated.

Still, it was enough. The trail of conflagration reached the far end of the bridge, leaving the crossway virtually impassable. I could hear a splash in the water as someone had leapt off of the side of the bridge before being baked. From what I could tell, the person was too far away to swim over to our Island in a timely manner. The ropes supporting the structure began to snap as I pulled myself back up to my feet after rolling away from the blaze's grasp. The bridge was quickly left lying limp in the water, many parts still burning while others submerged in the ocean began to sizzle.

More of interest than watching the results was examining myself. I had positioned myself too close to the gasoline (actually, I was kind of on top of some of it), causing me to fall back and drop the items in my hands as I was nearly engulfed in the fire. After trying to stand back up, I became painfully aware of a stinging sensation on my left forearm. A quick glance at it revealed where my sleeve had been scorched, even exposing my skin through a hole created. I didn't know how serious it was, but it hurt to touch my arm.

At least I wasn't the only one in pain. Mark was still in the tussle that he was in when he told me to take care of the bridge. I was surprised that I couldn't tell who it was the first time- the person was clearly twice Mark's size. I had no idea why he was over on this island at the time, but there was no question that this was Gannon.

Gannon must have gained the upper hand; I watched while he picked Mark straight off the ground and threw him back down with force. Mark grunted as he tried to find his breath. Gannon didn't give him the chance, as he picked him up by the shirt and shook him violently after pulling him face to face.

"What have you done?! What have you done?!" he continued to demand. Mark simply couldn't choke out an answer.

I had to do something. One option was to leave Mark behind. The other was to try to save him.

The best idea I came up with was charging at Gannon and, as one of my arms was incapacitated, I decided to try kicking him somewhere... well, sensitive. Though I must have missed by a little, it was enough of a surprise to the oblivious Gannon that he dropped Mark down to the ground. Unfortunately, it earned me a slap across the face (knocking me back down alongside Mark) and his attention. It could have gotten ugly very fast, but Mark gave him a kick in the abdomen that brought him to his knees.

The fight would have continued, but we were stopped by more gunfire. A lot of gunfire, in fact- whoever was left on the other side of the bridge decided to use every bullet he had left. Thankfully, whoever it was had no idea where we were, so the shots weren't necessarily aimed in our direction. We managed to avoid the spray by diving behind a nearby warehouse- this included all three of us. Gannon, still recovering from Mark's blow, lied there against the wall in between us.

"What," he asked between breaths, "is going on?"

"Chaos. Absolute chaos," Mark answered, acting as if they hadn't just been in a brawl. "Just keep your head low- stay out of whatever happens in the coming hours. Make sure you watch Eliza, too. We aren't the enemy here."

As soon as the shooting finally stopped, Mark grabbed me by the hand and we began our final run for the boat.

"Just don't stop running for any reason!" he hollered.

We could hear a running engine up ahead when someone grabbed me by my left arm. I know that Mark told me not to stop, but I was ready to kill someone for touching my burn wound. Whoever it was pleadingly called out, "Natalie…", but I didn't let him finish. The unlucky victim caught my right palm into his nose.

As the person reeled away in pain, Mark grabbed my hand again, grumbling about how I don't listen. But that would be the last interruption before we leaped from the dock onto the boat. Vaughn and Lily were alive and waiting for us, having already found and loaded the arson evidence. I made sure that the camera was still in my pocket as I sat down.

I was hoping that we would take off the second Mark and I got on the boat, but Vaughn was still hunched over the engine.

"Could yo-." "-I'm doing all I can, Nat." "I hope that you didn't waste all the gasoline on that stupid bridge."

I was worried that someone would board our vessel before we could leave, so I used my hand to push us away from the dock that we had already been untied from. It didn't really do much good, but the extra couple of feet somehow made me feel better.

The action didn't make a difference because the propellers finally began to churn the water. The only thing spoken was Vaughn asking Mark which direction the Mainland lied. After that, we all watched what action we could see on the Islands from the light of the still smoldering fire. I could see what looked like my mother talking with someone else, but it was impossible to make out any words.

Our main reason for silence was the persistent fear of being heard despite being undoubtedly safe- the only other vessel was Will's yacht and it would take too long to prepare for sailing to catch up with our pace. We were not accustomed to the freedom of the open sea. Once the flickers of the fire were distant enough to look no larger than the stars in the night sky, Lily finally began to answer the question I had first asked her on Sprout.

"You know, Mark, you could have been a bit more forthcoming about the generator." Mark laughed nervously in response. "You weren't there with Will. What took so long, anyways? Another couple of seconds and I would have had my head knocked off my shoulders." I shuddered at the thought.

"Honestly, I determined that you wanted the lights out, but I had no knowledge of how to turn off a generator. I eventually tossed a box of metal machinery parts into the rotor and ran out of there as fast as possible."

"You probably could have just used the power switch back behind it," said Vaughn with a wiry smile.

"… Yes, but I decided to go with a more permanent solution." No one believed her, but we still wanted to hear the entire story. "It took me several minutes after I left Kirk with the key in hand to find where you were. Thankfully, he had put the key in a porcelain jar on his nightstand, so he probably never knew that it was gone. I was worried that he would be suspicious of me leaving him alone, so I left a note while he was lying asleep in the restroom saying that I had to run a couple of errands. Now, I'm interested to know how you ended up in Lanna's house and why it took so long for you and Natalie to reach the boat."

Mark explained the first part of this thoroughly, which not surprisingly started up quite the conversation.

"But how…. Will was always the best person. He was so generous and easy to associate with and-."

"-I'm beginning to think you have a crush on him, Lily," I interrupted. Lily adjusted her hair in embarrassment.

Mark was merciful and tried to prevent any more discomfort. "Don't be so hard on her, Natalie. But yes, Will did a lot of good things. Unfortunately, it was all just for image- he understood how important it was to have people like you. Regis at least seems to believe in something… the Community… albeit largely because it benefits him. But it does make you ask the question- is it better to do the right things for the wrong reasons, or to do the wrong things for the right reasons?"

It was obviously a difficult question. If you wish for a simple yet somewhat misleading answer, let's just say that Lily settled for the first, while I agreed with the second. Vaughn was too busy with the navigation to pay any attention. I decided to focus more on the conversation than Vaughn, as thinking about what he was doing reminded me that I was far out in the ocean. I was actually becoming a little seasick, even though the waves really weren't all that choppy.

"Honestly," said Mark, "I don't think I could pick one over the other in this case, considering that I disagree with what Regis thought was right. I can respect that Will saw the hypocrisy of the Community. At the same time, though, he's the more dangerous as it's harder to predict what he will do. I think there's a point of pushing your mind so far to that something snaps inside. There's nothing you can do with someone like Will. He's obviously rejected all kinds of standards, so there's no way to relate to him. Maybe some day when he's sitting in his jail cell he'll see just how wrong he's lived his life, but I have my doubts. The way Will is… it's the way that I feared these Islands would sink to eventually. I just didn't know it would happen so soon. I'm sorry that I put you in harm's way like that. I should have been able to tell. I usually do."

Mark's speech took longer than it reads, as he was constantly pausing as he thought of something else to say. Not to mention that he was rubbing his neck every ten seconds. It must have bothered Lily.

"Is your neck sore due to poor posture, or have you not finished the story yet?"

Mark chuckled as he thought of it. "I… yeah, I was confronted by someone as I was preparing to light the bridge."

Lily spared Mark nothing. "You are a government agent, aren't you?"

In reply, Mark defensively held out his hands to demonstrate Gannon's size. "It was a large, hulking man…. Gannon. But I'm not seriously hurt, thanks to Natalie helping. That's what took us so long." That was when Mark realized that he hadn't thought to ask if I was injured in the tussle. "Goodness, Natalie, what happened to your arm?!"

I recoiled as he reached towards me. "I'm fine, I'm fine! I got it from the bridge fire, not Gannon's fist across my cheek. Mind your own problems."

Still, Mark insisted that he examine it, so he had me hold my arm out to him while Lily held a flashlight over it. She'd keep this on so we could see each other.

"It's definitely a burn. I'd classify it as a moderate first degree. It's not severe, but be careful with it all the same." Burns are overrated. I had the worst kind, a first degree, and even it wasn't anything life threatening. I admit that I sighed a little when I heard that I would be fine.

"I was never that worried about it," I said confidently,"I'm just annoyed that my favorite turtleneck is ruined." No one said anything in response. "... Does no one like it?" Mark started to say something, but it trailed off. But I had to defend myself. "Well, it's handmade... by my mom. Unlike you jerks, I didn't get to bring a whole wardrobe onto the Islands with me."

Once enough time had passed to put that conversation behind us, Mark addressed Vaughn.

"So… how are you holding up, Vaughn?"

"… Ehh, I've been shot."

You can expect how the other three of us began to panic. I confess that I was the worst. While the other two began to stand up and I actually reached out towards Vaughn.

"Somebody do something! Vaughn's going to die!"

Vaughn held up one hand to stop me.

"Please… please, just calm down. You're just making it worse. I caught one on my right side, right below the ribcage, but I'll be fine."

I remained perplexed. "… But you've been shot!" "You do know that being shot doesn't mean you automatically die, right?"

Oh. "Of course I do," I lied. Well, I was only being deceitful- I do know now, so I was technically telling the truth.

"Plus," Vaughn continued, "it's not like it's the first time."

Not the first time? Who knew that being a "cowboy" was such a hazardous profession? Ignoring Vaughn's assurances, Mark told him to move aside so he could control the rudder while Vaughn lied down in the hull. We gave him several pieces of clothing that he could use to apply pressure to the wound: a ribbon from my hair, an undershirt that Mark was wearing, and Vaughn's own bandana.

To try shifting focus from the gunshot wound, we tried to make small talk. Vaughn (and quite frankly, myself) didn't participate. For this reason, it turned from small talk to a philosophical conversation between Mark and Lily. Meh. I've had enough of smart-people talking for a long while Instead, I was completely absorbed by watching over Vaughn, worried that he would take his last breath at any second. Who knows how long I spent in that position, hunched over with my chin resting on my right palm. When I finally did look out onto the water, I jolted a bit when I saw how close the lights of the Mainland were.

"Is… is that it?" I didn't turn to see Mark's expression. "That it is," he said quietly, "And it's going to be different from anything you've ever seen. We'll be pulling in on one of the docks in… I don't know… ten minutes. Just stay on the boat with Vaughn until I come back with some help."

Mark's approximation was pretty close- I'd estimate it as taking about eight minutes. The dock was similar to the ones on the Islands, but it was significantly larger and taller and had rows of boats anchored next to it that looked almost as nice as Will's yacht.

Mark lifted up a rope hanging from the side of the boat and tied it to a post after jumping up on the dock.

"Remember, don't go anywhere! I'll be back as fast as I can."

I've said before that I'm not unaccustomed to blatantly disobeying orders. This time, though, my curiosity was plenty satisfied by staying where I was at. I hadn't been somewhere new since I was a toddler- seeing all of this was an assault to the senses… to a worldview. Everything looked a little different when one truly understood that there was something beyond the blue waters of the Sunshine Islands.

Vaughn was too occupied with dealing with his own health to worry about me, but Lily probably thought I had lost my mind. I began by scooping a cup of water in my hands to decide if it tasted different from ocean water from the Islands. It actually did- but not in a good way. I quickly spit it out in disgust. Then I felt the dock- specifically, the wooden column that was driven somewhere under the surface of the water. After rubbing it with my good hand, I decided that its texture was no different from what we have back home.

The last thing I did before Mark had returned was straining my eyes in the dull lights from the nearby buildings to survey the topography of the Mainland. From what little I could see, it was a flat and kind of boring place- once again like the Islands.

I mentioned that Mark had returned by this point. Rather than stepping down back on the boat, he bent down on the side of the dock and held out his arm.

"They'll be here shortly. Here, let's get off so the paramedics will have enough room to move Vaughn."

I took his arm and he hauled me up onto the dock. It was pretty attractive how strong he was. Lily opted to step up on her own. I could have done the same, but I enjoyed getting attention from Mark. Weird, I know.

We weren't standing there long before a faint sound could be heard approaching. Quite frankly, it was incredibly annoying, and it only continued to become more so as time passed.

There were a couple of objects making these sounds, whose sources eventually became visible some ways past the other end of the dock. They were two large moveable metal objects that pulled up as close as possible to the dock without actually rolling onto it. One was large and mostly white, while the other was smaller and a darker color. They were pretty intimidating.

Mark didn't seem too surprised, so I concluded that these large metal boxes were what we were waiting for. "Do what they tell you to," he told Lily and I, "I'm going to talk with these people up here. First, though, I'll take care of that camera of yours from here."

After handing my old pastime to him, I refocused on the transport boxes. Sure enough, there were actual humans inside these things. Two came out of the small one, who Mark conversed with. Four came out of the other- opening two doors on the back of it from which they extracted a kind of cot on wheels. They wasted no time in running down the dock towards us. I thought about saying something to these new Mainlanders, but they told me to move out of the way before I could.

Apparently, they had come for Vaughn. Two people jumped down onto our tiny boat to put something on Vaughn's wound before helping him up onto the cot (They had tossed the old bandages aside. My ribbon ended up in the ocean- I'm still not very happy about losing that). After loading him onto it, they immediately began to push him back towards the box they came out of. One, though, a middle-aged man, stopped when he saw me while the others pushed on. He asked if I was the one who had burnt her arm. I opened my mouth to speak, but hearing someone I didn't know addressing me made me too nervous to speak. I just nodded meekly. I didn't know I could be such a wimp. It's a result of bad role models in my family, I'm sure.

The man must have known what I meant, as he took me by my good arm and gently told me to come with him into the box. I looked at Mark in confusion while I passed. Mark nodded, reiterating that I was to do as I was told.

The lights inside of the transport box were jarring to my eyes, causing me to realize just how tired I actually was. In fact, it threw my whole vision into a haze- what followed is hard for me to remember. There were a couple of people in fancy clothes doing something with my arm, but the main focus of attention was understandably Vaughn. I recall mumbling out half coherent questions of whether he was going to be ok or not. I can't remember what the Mainlanders told me. When watching Vaughn bleeding became too unbearable, I would direct my gaze towards the tiny windows on the back doors. I had little room to see, but I could make out buildings continually passing through the opening before being left behind, only to be replaced by another. There was no way to make out their size, but the sheer number of them was staggering.

At some point, Vaughn and I were led back out of the transport box and into the night again. It was still dark, but there were large amounts of artificial lighting trying to pierce through the gloom. We weren't out there very long before we were back in a building where I was taken to a very bland room where yet another person treated me. This didn't take particularly long, as all this woman did was look at my burn, cover it up with bandages, and give me a couple of bites of some foreign substance to eat. I would have appreciated it, but for some reason she forced me to swallow these things whole. It didn't really taste that good, either.

The woman said something to me, pushing me back down on a bed before she left the room. The burning in my arm had long been replaced with a numbness that aided exhaustion. I had the idea that I could find a reason to stay awake by checking on Vaughn.

I wandered around of before I saw him through a glass window. He looked pretty composed lying there in a bed, though there were still several Mainlanders with him. They tried to stop me when I started to walk into the room. Someone would come to my rescue, though.

"Oh, please just let her see the man!" This was accompanied with a gentle push on the back of my neck. Of course, it was Mark. Lily was also with him, along with a decent crowd of men and a couple women. Mark was now dressed up in some bulky vest that most of the others were wearing. Others had on clothes similar to the people who treated my burn while another two were holding what looked like big versions of the camera I had found in the warehouse.

Mark began to argue with one of the men in the room, apparently about me, until Vaughn finally growled out a, "let the stupid girl go back to her family." I guess you don't deny the wishes of a man who's been shot, as the Mainlanders gave up the argument after that.

Shortly thereafter, I was boarded into yet another transport box (this time a small one) along with Lily, Mark, and a couple of the other people dressed like him. Lily was thoughtful enough to explain the reason for this to me while we rode back the way we came- she said that they are the people that Mark works with at his agency thing.

As I expected, we were at a dock again, though this was actually not the same one that we came in on. I followed Mark onto one of the boats; this craft was larger than Kirk's but smaller than some of the others I had seen since arriving on the Mainland. It also had lighting that we had been largely deprived of on our trip over. There was a small tarp over the bow of the boat, but most of it (including where I would be strapped into a flimsy chair) was open to the air. The material used for the hull felt rubbery, almost like it was an inflatable balloon. Once we were situated, I spoke for the first time in what must have been at least an hour.

"… Mark… I thought we had all the evidence we needed."

He looked at me a little oddly from his chair on my right side. "We do. I have copies of the images we were able to pull off that camera right here in this folder. The other things are back at forensics."

I scowled a little- Mark wasn't ignorant of what I was trying to say. He was just trying to avoid the question. "Then tell me what the heck has you looking so anxious."

Mark sighed as he answered, "I knew what you meant. The truth is, I'm worried about what's happened since we left. Panicked people can go to extreme measures."

I would have asked him to elaborate, but the conversation would have been impossible over the rumbling of our boat's engine. We shot out from the dock with little warning along with two other identical boats. I looked from face to face of the Mainlanders with us and saw the common solemnity. Lily, who had been waiting for this moment for so long, wasn't exactly cheering, either. That's when the gravity of the situation truly hit me. Regis, Will, and Kirk had little problem killing people while they were in control of the Islands. To what lengths would they go when they knew that they were losing their grip on the balance of power?

There's no other way to describe my emotions- I was afraid. No longer for me or Mark or Vaughn or Lily. It was for my family and the other people we had left behind. People like Julia and Chen, or even Gannon and Pierre. I have always had Mark or Chelsea with me to fix things up. They, however, were alone.

Even though we were being tossed around in a spray of wind and water, an uncomfortable stillness of the dark settled over the ocean. Not a peaceful stillness, but more like the silent build up of pressure just before things start shredding apart.


	16. Chapter 16: Drawing Lines

**Author's Notes:** And at last, the long-awaited and very long conclusion to this story! Honestly, I'm not sure how this will be received- please review! I do have to give some warning- some of the content in this chapter is quite dark. I don't think it's enough so to merit a M rating, but if you are worried about reading something you don't want to read, just skip to the author's notes at the end of the chapter to see if you will find it a problem.

* * *

**Chapter 16- Drawing Lines**

When we were close enough to Sprout Island to make out objects sharply, there was nothing to suggest that anything was wrong. There was no electricity illuminating any of the buildings, but one could make out burning candles in some of the windows. The interior of Regis's house in particular was very bright.

So, there was no mass shooting or destruction of property going on. While I was ready to announce the end of my concerns, Mark and the others weren't as optimistic. After we had tied up to the Sprout Dock, he told me and Lily that we could follow behind as long as we stayed at a safe distance. He, along with the other people from the agency, pulled a very large gun from off of his shoulder and stepped onto the dock.

Once the crews of the other boats had assembled together, they moved as one group with urgency, yet without compromising covertness. Apparently, they had every intention of going undetected for the time being. They had pulled the boats up to a near crawl when we had neared land and all of them spoke in a soft whisper.

A few of these people went from building to building on the island peering into each of the windows for signs of life. There were, however, three primary expeditions; these went towards each of the residences of the suspects- Carol's inn (for Kirk), Regis's house, and Will's yacht. I would have preferred going after Will, but Mark was with those assigned to capture Regis. So, instead of just taking a few steps down the dock, I finally hopped back onto dry land. Lily came along with me, presumable because Mark was the only person to give us permission to follow or that she decided to follow whatever I did. I'd like to think the latter.

The two of us stayed far enough behind to avoid any action in the case of a shootout. At the same time, though, we took a position near Lanna's house where we could see what would happen as soon as they opened Regis's front door. Mark and the others with him lined up against the front façade of the manor and remained there completely still until one of them shouted something- clearly some kind of signal. I can't tell you exactly what was said because things began to transpire before he could even finish the first word. Mark flung open the door while one of his partners on the other side of the opening tossed in some sort of canister. Two others tossed similar devices into a couple of the first floor windows.

Within a couple of seconds, three blasts of blinding light shook the house, causing both me and Lily to cover our ears. Immediately, Mark and the others progressed into the interior shouting more stuff while raising their guns.

… And then murmuring, and then silence. Then, several vulgarities rose above the still. Apparently, there would be no gun fighting. From where I was standing, the door wasn't left open wide enough to see anything more than a couple of people's backs. I craned my neck to the side and squinted before one of Mark's men moved, revealing at least part of the ugly scene inside.

I never want to have to go over what had happened again, so bear with me. True, I didn't care much about the people I would see. But they were still people, and what had happened is inarguably awful.

The first body I saw was Alisa, who was lying on her side. A spilt cup of wine lied just beyond the reach of her outstretched hand. As I dragged Lily with me to the doorway, I was able to see Nathan collapsed in a similar state on the other side of the doorframe to Regis's office. Past them, inside Regis's office, Kirk and Regis himself were propped up against the ornate desk where the Head of the Community once conducted his business. On a coffee table in front of the desk were several knocked over glasses, while others lay shattered on the floor. An upturned basin was found on the rug, the rug being saturated with spilled wine. This same wine covered the table, dripping off at the corners. On top of Regis's desk, though, was his personal chair… yes, there was a chair perched right on top of the middle of the desk. Sitting in it was none of than Will- still very much alive, acting like the "monarch" he had always dreamed of being. To make everything worse, he even sported a slight smirk of amusement. Candles were spread out around the room in a ceremonial fashion.

Mark ordered the others to search the rest of the house for any other fatalities, leaving the last standing suspect with myself, Lily, and Mark (of course).

Lily didn't hesitate a moment before navigating around the figures lying on the floor and joining Mark and Will in the office. I was shortly behind her. I had the urge to yank Will right off of that "throne" of his and give him a good thrashing. However, something felt wrong, as Will still very much acted as if he was in control of things.

I could tell that Mark anxiously felt the same way. He timidly handed the folder he was holding to Will, who examined the contents calmly like any normal book.

"It's over, Will," Mark began, "just make it easy on us and come down yourself-."

Will countered Mark's suggestion with confidence. "I reject the whole premise. It's far from over. All I see here is Regis, Regis, Regis and Kirk, Kirk, Kirk. There's no evidence of me doing anything here other than providing my dear uncle with a little charity. This goes without mentioning that anyone who could testify against me outside of ourselves is lying on that floor. Don't be upset about that, by the way. I didn't tell them to do it."

"It doesn't look like you persuaded them against it, either," I responded curtly.

"Oh, of course not. That wouldn't be very logical at all, now would it? What else should I have done?"

Lily reached out and grabbed his right hand, which was now resting on the arm of his chair. Will made no reaction to the motion.

"Will… please, do you not hear what we are saying? Everyone who has died… has it had no effect on you?"

Will prepared to speak but pursed his lips at the last moment. What he would actually say was probably more thoughtful than what he initially planned on.

"… I would be lying if I said that I felt nothing. What I do feel, though, is nothing more than years of growing up being cramped in a box of man-made ethics. It's only logical that one would be a little sore upon finally extracting himself from it. The world of the box is changing, though. If the Community ever got one thing right, it was its stance on tolerance… presuming that we weren't dealing with issues regarding Community security, of course. What is the purpose of judging when there is no judgment?"

Mark reached out and snatched back the folder that he had handed to the now meditative Will. "Oh, there will be judgment, and I'm not just talking about one in another life. I'm sure you'll find prison for the rest of your days quite suitable. There you can find some other insane people to battle wits with."

Let's take a break from the talking for a moment. I've never been one to stand in one position for very long, and this occasion was no different. Usually I just oscillate my balance between my two feet, but sometimes I might take a step to either side. It was about this time, though, that I actually bumped into Regis's shoulder in the process. When I saw who it was that impeded my movement, a cold shiver ran down my body. I began to scoot him further away with my leg like anyone would with something that was repulsive to the touch but had to be moved. When doing so, I saw where an envelope had been stuffed into his formal jacket. Just one word of the address was visible, but it caught my attention- "to whoever". I couldn't resist the curiosity to see what it was.

I gingerly tugged at it with two fingers until I could wrap my hand around it without making much contact with the ex Head of the Community. The envelope had not been sealed and was fully addressed "to whoever happens to find this." I immediately withdrew the contents and began to read them to myself. I'll get to the specifics later, but let's turn you back to the conversation at hand first. If you were dense and forgot where we were, Mark had just told Will that he was going to jail for a very long time. We didn't have jails on the Islands (the only disciplinary action used was the Departure), but Gramps once told me that there are buildings on the Mainland where evil people go to be rehabilitated.

"To each his own," Will retorted. It was the first real malice I detected in his voice in the whole engagement. "Don't call me insane when you are the one who is making these grand assumptions that what I've done is somehow wrong. My uncle believed that there was something right- tolerance itself. That's just one small mark from the truth itself- that complete relativity can't even be defined as moral itself. This is just one small misstep from the fact, and look where it got him. Remove all emotion and use your mind, and you will know that I'm right. I respect the game that you have played- you have become the closest people to beating me. But close is the best you will have. The only thing in your favor is your testimony against me. Not only do you overestimate its value in a court of law, but I have my connections. You will never have me pinned down."

Much activity had occurred during this latest rant of Will's. Some of Mark's partners had returned from their search, but he waved them away. A couple did move the bodies before leaving, though. Will wouldn't speak again until they had left. It was actually just the three of us by this point. Lily couldn't handle hearing Will any further. She shook her head sadly and left midway through. I wasn't ready to give in yet, though. After finishing Regis's last penned words, I handed it to Mark.

"Don't get ahead of yourself yet, Will," I warned. Mark looked at me curiously before he began to read the letter out loud:

_To whoever happens to find this,_

_I was no fool- I knew what would happen. The odds are, you are one of the very people who came to arrest me yourself. However, I had no intention of going to prison or seeing you tear down this place we had worked so hard to build. If only you could understand what you have done. I hope that the rest of the Community will follow suit in avoiding your perversion against us. I do suspect, however, that there will be one man still alive- my nephew. Whatever I or my fellow companions did that was truly wrong is a result of him. I suspect that you pilfered through my box at one of the warehouses. However, in my desk is a hidden safe that no one but myself ever knew about. You'll find it by sliding a board in the back of the large cabinet. Open it with the combination 10, 1, 49. Inside is all the evidence I could gather against our persecutor; you'll find recordings, payments, and other articles of interest. I hope, in collaboration with your work, it will be enough. I would have turned him into the authorities if only it wouldn't have compromised the Community. Now that it does not matter, I thoroughly condemn William Regison and his conceited aims. _

_One last thing. On the Mainland, you will find my daughter, who I am sure will here of this. Let her know that I remembered her at the end._

"Signed and stamped Regis Regison," Mark added, while folding the letter and slipping it in a pocket on the inside of his vest. To his credit, Will remained still in his chair rather than trying to escape. It's too bad, really, because I would have loved having the opportunity at taking a slug at him.

"Natalie…would you mind looking for the safe while I make sure Will doesn't bolt?" Mark asked. I nodded as I moved around to the other side of the desk. I tried several options with no luck until I saw a larger drawer that had a lock on it. Since I didn't have a key, I just pulled on it really hard. The door did open, but I winced when I saw the damage that the motion had incurred. As much as I had disliked Regis, that was one nice desk.

I had to remove several stacks of papers before pushing the far side of the cabinet to the left (the third direction I tried), revealing the safe that I was looking for. I used the combination that I remembered reading from the letter on one of those rotating lock things. I sort of knew what to do as I had played with one before that I found while rummaging around in one of the warehouses. After imputing the digits, the box made a clicking noise. I decided this meant that I should turn the handle. A beaming smile shone upon my face as I opened the door and removed a thick folder from inside. Once again, I handed this to Mark, who had allowed me to figure out the safe all on my own. He studied the contents and, staying true to the progression from last time, gave this to Will. Will took a long glance at this before abruptly throwing the folder and everything with it against the wall. It caught both of us by surprise to see him suddenly lose his composure.

"That traitor! And all the things I did to keep him satisfied! I let him take whatever quota size he wanted, kept his foolish project alive… and he stabs his own family in the back! It's-."

Will stopped as he saw Mark raise an eyebrow at what he was saying. This had a visible effect on Will, who initially turned angry before his expression quickly turned to a glum smile of defeat. Will jumped down from the chair and held his hands out extended towards Mark together with his fingers interlaced.

"'Cuff me, Mark. You're the new king of the Sunshine Islands." Will's voice was both sinister and mocking.

Mark wouldn't play Will's game. With a shake of his head, he told someone else to come and have Will taken into custody. He also ordered someone else to pick the scattered evidence off of the floor before leaving the room.

I stood where I was, now leaning against the wall with my arms crossed disapprovingly as I wanted to see the rest of what would happen. Will turned to me as he waited to be taken.

"That Mark is a weak one," he told me. "I wish you all the best in the coming days. I know you have strength- as long as you stop acting like Mark's humble assistant, you'll do well enough."

"… Well, I hope you enjoy prison. Maybe you can find some people out there who are a lot meaner than you… who really are just 'bad' people."

"Oh! Prison isn't preferable, my lady, but I will enjoy my plea bargain."

That would be the last thing I would ever hear from Will. He finished this statement as he was taken out the front door. I followed behind them and watched Will be led towards the docks. Deciding that there were now other things of interest to be addressed, I looked the other direction towards Verdure. Mark and Lily were walking towards me from this direction.

Lily addressed me with a serious voice. "They've found a fifth body. It's Lanna. She had been shot three times in her house. We don't know if it was a result of your fight in there or if she was shot for some other reason later on."

Great. Yet another victim of our actions. Part of me wondered if we had done the right thing after all.

"But they found survivors," she added on an encouraging note, "there's a large group of them huddled up at Haila's."

I instinctively began to run towards the designated building. I had to know who was still alive. The door to the café was cracked open, but not enough so that any whole person was discernible. Each of the round tables had a candle set up at its center.

I threw my weight against the door and came reeling into the dining hall. It would have been seen as annoyingly loud normally, but everyone inside was too distracted talking with family, friends, or some of the Mainlanders that came back with us.

Most of the people inside lived on Sprout- Carol, Haila, Denny, Eliza, and Gannon, who must have swam back (Gannon can swim… with all that weight?) so he could make sure his daughter was safe. There were three others, though, who resided on my home island. Pierre was standing behind Haila's serving counter, holding out a couple of dishes of food to one of Mark's partners. Nick was standing nearby, involved in the same conversation. And then there was Elliot, awkwardly sitting at a table all alone. He was soaking wet, but I had never been so glad to see him.

I only gave him enough time to stand up when he saw me before I embraced him.

"Thank goodness you're alive, Elliot! What about Mom and Gramps?"

"They're still back at home, safe and sound," he said slowly. "… Natalie, are you hugging me?"

I immediately let go. "Why do you always have to make such a big fuss about everything?… and it won't happen again, I assure you! Especially when you act like you've never been touched by a girl."

"I think you hardly count," he mumbled under his breath.

For being someone so quiet, Elliot can be quite rude at times. Still, I could tell that he hastily regretted what he said, so I let him slide this time. Only because of the occasion, though. I had more important things to talk about.

"Why are you so wet anyways?… you got water all over my shirt and bandages… and what happened to your fac-… actually, never mind on that second question."

Elliot's face was, in fact, bruised and kind of swollen. It was clear that his nose had been bleeding at some point, too. The reason I stopped the question was that, well, I already connected his injuries to the person I punched right before we made our escape. I guess that balances out my recent extension of grace. Anyways, I still didn't know the answer to the other part of the question. He told me to sit down before he began.

"You remember when I promised you that I would try protecting people if something very bad happened? Well, I knew that time had come when I saw the bridge on fire and you and Mark running away. After you were already gone, me, Mom, and Grandpa tried gathering all the people on Verdure together to make sure that they were alright. We found everyone but Pierre and Nick, and we all blockaded ourselves in our house… I'm sure that they're still there. I felt, though, that Regis and Kirk would be the ones trying to instigate something, which would mean that the people over here would be in danger.

"I had them let me out so I could try warning this island. After making the swim across… I'm still freezing cold from that, by the way… I discovered that Regis had already assembled everyone he could at his house. When I joined in, Regis was saying how the Community was about to be attacked and our way of life would be destroyed. He said that the only way we could be protected from the invasion and retain our purity would be to drink from the wine he had set before us. Some of the people looked suspicious, while others seemed to believe him."

"So?" I asked, "what did you do?"

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Now, he started to dip the glasses and having them handed out, but I shook my head, walked up, and… and… heck, I slide the wine beaker he had put out and the rest of the cups right off of his little table! I told them that we had no reason to be drinking any wine and that we shouldn't listen to him. I tried prying the glass that Regis was holding out of his hand, but he threw me off balance into the wall. He, Kirk, Nathan, and Alisa drank, as they stood before us to act as examples. I had just enough time to stop Denny, who was first in line. And… I really don't want to describe what happened next… it's just too horrible. And now they're saying Lanna's gone, too."

Elliot wasn't in any condition to finish, so I tried doing so for him.

"… So then the rest of you holed yourselves up in here until we arrived."

Elliot nodded. "There's more, though. Apparently they wanted us to join them in their ritual so much that had all of the food here at Haila's poisoned. We could have all died had we not known, Natalie."

"How exactly did you know, anyways?"

Elliot didn't speak. Instead, he pointed over my shoulder. I grimaced as the person took a seat next to me.

"… You," I said simply.

Pierre laughed. "I was hoping for a little more, but at least you've finally said something to me."

"What did you expect? You never explained yourself-."

"-You never gave me the chance."

"You didn't deserve one! You made it quite clear- you don't see that anything you did was wrong, and I simply can't reconcile that."

Pierre tried to reach for my hand but I drew away from him. He sighed softly.

"… We have our differences, Natalie, but I can tell that it was wrong to hurt you. I'm… I'm deeply sorry, and I wish I could take it all back."

I finally took the opportunity to look at him directly. Pierre looked sickly, almost like he was exhausted. But there was something in his expression that told me that he was being honest. Maybe, just maybe, he could get his act together if he could separate himself from the Islands for a few years.

"So," I finally started, "Enough about us. How did you figure out that the food was laced with poison?"

Pierre looked a little upset by the change of topic, but Elliot was definitely appreciative of it. Pierre's response was to stick out his tongue at me. I only realized that the tongue was part of the demonstration and not an insult when he pointed to it.

"I used this thing! Nick and I had come over here to talk with Haila about what we should prepare for the Feast of Summer when everything happened. Afterwards, we had been camping out here for about an hour when my stomach started rumbling. I found some scrumptious raisin muffins in the kitchen which would have fulfilled my appetite. When I took my first bite, though, I knew something felt… wrong. I am a gourmet, after all. So, I spit it out and rinsed my mouth. As I looked at some of the other meals lying around, I noticed that many of the surfaces were moist with something foreign. I told everyone not to eat anything, and, sure enough, the cops told me that they believed someone had poured cyanide over everything they could. We'll have to wait for test results for confirmation, though."

"So I'm assuming cyanide is supposed to be pretty bad… are you going to die?" I asked, perhaps a little too casually.

Pierre waved my concern (if you can call it that) off. "Oh, they said that if I was going to die, I would have done so already. They don't think I ingested hardly any of it, and we all know I have a stomach of steel, anyways. They're supposed to be bringing some medication at some point for good measure, though."

I had to choose my words carefully. "… Well, I'm glad that you are alive. But I would be lying if I didn't say that I would like to check up on the rest of my family."

Pierre agreed that it was a good idea. "Of course I won't stop you. In fact, I need to be getting home myself, so I'll come with you, cinnamon sticks." I shrugged. "Sure. But don't ever call me that again. Seriously." Both Pierre and Elliot found me funny, but only Pierre chuckled. He's lucky that I won't hit him as readily.

The three of us asked Mark if we could be given a ride to Verdure to spare us the swim. He said it was fine and, after a few more words with the Mainlanders, joined us in the walk to the dock. I could tell that he was upset, but I didn't say anything until we had boarded the boat we were to take. We all sat in the back after Mark found someone to captain the boat.

"… What's wrong, Mark?"

He grimaced before speaking. "One for the asylum, five for the morgue. This isn't what Chelsea died for… They knew where the GPS was, you know. They knew all along that it stopped transmitting somewhere out in the ocean. But they were so sure that the Community was clean that they assumed that it was an accident… whether it being that she dropped it into the water while out fishing or that the device somehow malfunctioned and it was misreading. They just refused to believe that a human would do such a thing. And now they'll be fishing out another body. It's disgusting."

What I said next was pretty thoughtful, so listen close. In some ways, I was having to convince myself of this, too.

"You know, it was never just about justice for them. They'll get their justice one way or another. It should have always been more about justice for us. My whole life I've been stuck here. And I'm not the only one. This was the only way that this could have ended- they would never have been able to assimilate back. So stop complaining- Chelsea would be disappointed. Nothing would have changed for us had you not come."

Mark smiled darkly. "More like Chelsea would be angry. Chelsea's sacrifice wasn't enough, either. We had to have help from Regis of all people to go along with everything we did to get Will."

I shook my head. "Stop thinking about how the world is all against you! If Chelsea didn't do what she did, then we would never have left, which means that Regis would never have given that information. It's all tied together." Mark slowly agreed with me. I'm not sure why he argued in the first place.

When we landed, we waved Pierre goodnight (actually, good morning) while the three of us continued towards my house. We walked along at a slow pace and remained standing outside our door until Elliot realized that we wanted some private time. I didn't waste any time after he had gone inside.

"You aren't coming in, are you?" I questioned, already knowing the answer.

"No, no, no. I'll be going back to where I came from… the ranch, and well… Yes. It's time to put me behind you."

Just a few yards away, Mark's hat lied upside down in the grass, obviously having fallen off during our escape. He picked it up. His hat used for farming starkly contrasted with the uniform he now wore. In fact, he looked older than he did before. It never had occurred to me that he might be as much as six years or seven older than myself.

Before doing anything with the hat, he gave me a timid kiss on the forehead with little forewarning. Only then did he gently slide the hat over my head.

"Keep it, to remember me… not to mourn over my absence. You're special, Natalie. It's why you are the only born Islander to help us. You don't need me- you never did. It's… it's a good thing, because I never could have always been there for you. I'm sorry, it's all I can say."

Our relationship was always a hard one to define. I can't put my feelings for him into words, and his feelings towards me were always too complicated. Mark loved me, but it wasn't romantic. It didn't parallel two friends, or a father and a daughter, or even a big brother and little sister. It just was.

Not only was Mark getting a little too melodramatic, but so was I. It was time to stop.

"I'll see you in the morning," I said. Mark nodded. He hesitated, as if he was going to say something else, but eventually shook his head again and headed off in the direction of Ranch Island.

With the conversation finished, I was able to hear voices from under my front door. I opened the door to see that all of the Verdure residents (excluding Pierre and Nick, of course) were still inside. As soon as she was able to stand up, my mother grabbed me, examined me, and gave me a hug. I already knew that she was alive, so I wasn't too emotional. However, everyone was watching me expectantly, so I patted her on the back a couple of times in return.

"Ohh… my daughter… my dear, dear daughter! Elliot said he saw you still alive before you left, but we were so worried!"

"It's over now," I said comfortingly, "Now let's sit down."

The next half hour involved a lot of talking. No one wanted to leave, despite the poor lighting in the room. Unfortunately, most of it was about me- particularly about my relationship with Mark and Chelsea and the burn on my arm. A particularly painful part was when Gramps asked me why my boyfriend didn't join us. I snapped at him, clarifying that Mark and I were never actually together- I was harsh so no one would continue with that direction.

Even with all the questions, there were a lot of things that I had done that we didn't go over. I really had been rather busy. A couple of details I intentionally avoided were watching the chapel being burned down without doing anything and tricking Gramps into thinking that Elliot had messed up the shipping delivery.

At last, the talk turned away from me towards general chatter. I spent some time talking with Julia until a couple of Mark's partners came in and gave us some instructions for the upcoming days. The first thing on the list was returning to our homes for the rest of the night until further details would be given out the next morning. Apparently our transition of de-Communitizing would be longer process than I would have hoped. I guess it's understandable, though.

Though the others left, my family gathered around our kitchen table rather than going to bed. We all agreed that we wouldn't be able to sleep yet, so we had Elliot try making us a fire while we talked. It was actually me who got the ball rolling.

"You look a little down, Gramps."

The only response he registered was staring off into the far distance. "Years… years of trying, and I've only come to finally see it fail," he finally said.

Gramps was, of course, the last remaining resident of the Sunshine Islands who was an original founder of the Community at an adult age. Until then, I didn't think of the other consequences of what the fall of the Community would mean.

No one spoke until Elliot finished working on the fire and joined the rest of us. It was obvious that Gramps was waiting to say something.

"This is probably the first time I've ever told you two the whole story of the Islands, but this seems to be an appropriate time to do so. The Community was always an ideal- I remember when I first saw the advertisement. Felicia was only a wee girl when we came, so none of you ever truly saw what the Mainland was like. There was pain, there was injustice… there was evil. We told ourselves that if we could somehow… cut all ties with society, we could purify ourselves from within. It was a wonderous idea… All we needed was be our own rulers.

"It is hard to describe our excitement when we got permission to start the Community. We had a new lease on life. We were all so very, very poor… I owned a small farm, which wasn't something that made us much money. But here… we would all get equal recognition for our contribution. We put all our money together and started a new life.

"It started well. We elected our first Head of the Community with little trouble… it seemed that we were destined to succeed. We all got along great. This went on for some time. But then came the Year of Testing. You see, kids, we had multiple cold snaps one year that devastated the harvest. With the cold came sickness that spread across the whole Community. We had little food to eat, and we had much less shipping due to poor farming, disease, and sinking morale. Despite our problems, the Head of the Community said we had to stay strong… we couldn't take help from the Mainland as that would destroy our self-sufficiency. We had to live off what little food was available. A couple of people died, as did many of the ranch animals. We struggled just trying to make sure that you two were fed properly.

The next year… the weather was better, but the Islands' farmer, after seeing just how critical his trade was to the Community, wanted a boost in his quota. Well, I wanted to kick his sorry self off the islands, and I certainly wasn't the only one. We didn't approve his request, and, in return, he cut the amount of crops that he planted from half the usual total. We considered giving him the first Departure, but the Head of the Community eventually decided that his job was too vital to cut entirely. I requested to take his spot, but he told me that it had been determined that it was not allowed to change occupations once arriving on the Islands unless by marriage, and your father was just the Island's store manager before Chen replaced him."

I felt a wave of water rise to my eyes at my father's mention. "… And… what did happen to my dad… father...?" I asked. The rest of the family was equally morose.

My mom answered this question. "Yes, he owned the store just across the street. As he was the only member of his family to move to the Islands, he was obligated to adopt the pink hair when he married me. By Community tradition, the Head of the Community determines whose family is transferred jobs, and that usually involves the least amount of people moving around."

"That's nice," I grunted, "but Gramps implied that we were already born by this point. What about my father?! How did he-."

My mother interrupted before I could spin out any further. "Yes, Natalie, I'll tell you, if you really want to know. It was the second year that your grandfather was speaking about. The previous year's quota return was so dismal that your dad worked extra time trying to boost the shipping. He did things like cutting down trees to give to Gannon so he could make utensils faster, gathering wild plants that he thought Mainlanders would find interesting, and volunteering at the mine. I had to take care of you and Elliot and your grandfather was too old to do all the things th-."

"Actually," Gramps intervened, "Somebody had to make sure that the shipping was taken care of as he was running around all the time." My mom actually smiled to herself but didn't argue with him. She continued as if she didn't hear him.

"Anyways, it wasn't much, but it probably did help some. I… oh, goodness… my poor, beloved husband worked himself to death. He got sick, which wasn't surprising with all the sickness going around, but we just couldn't get him to slow down. When he finally became too ill to leave his bed… it was too late. You're dad… he was a good man. It's hard to really remember the way things were- it's been so long." Taro nodded in agreement.

I never knew my father, but I was always curious about what he was like. I had once asked Mother what he was like before, but she just compared him to Elliot. Yeah right. If that story was true, he was far more courageous than my pathetic brother. Why wasn't that the first thing she mentioned when I asked? Because it was too slanderous to the Community? Regardless, it made me mad.

"Why didn't you do something about it?! You… everyone should have agreed to just give that Head of the Community the Departure!"

Most likely, my dad could have been saved if we had Mainland medicine just as Charlie could have been. And the quota was probably only bad because a few weasels were stashing a lot of it for themselves. Couldn't a little medicine be a good thing, too? The whole "The-Community-Must-Be-Self-Sufficient" thing sounds ridiculous when you think about how much stuff must actually be imported over.

Gramps answered quickly, ignoring my tone. "Well, we didn't have to do anything about him. He died later that same year. Then it came to election time. There were two people who wanted the position. One was a fisherman named Martin… he was a strange little man, but his love of animals made him popular. The other name you should recognize. This person had actually only recently moved in as overseer of the mines- Regis."

He stopped as Elliot mumbled something. I raised an eyebrow and leaned towards my brother.

"Take the zipper off your mouth, Elliot. What did you say?"

Elliot looked tentative, almost as if he was still afraid of Community repercussion. He adjusted his glasses before he spoke.

"It's just… if Martin was so well liked, why didn't he win?"

Gramps and Mother looked at each other, as if hoping the other would answer. Finally, Mother sighed as she gave in.

"We had just lost your father, Elliot. We needed any help we could get. Regis… he offered our family an extra portion of quota for five years on the conditions that we vote for him and help assure his victory."

"So... you took a bribe." Elliot was surprisingly cold in his response… for just this once, Natalie approves.

Mother sounded wounded. "You and Natalie were so young… I couldn't live if I let one of you die when I had the chance to do something about it. I don't think we were the only ones approached to do this, as we wouldn't have been enough to carry Regis. And… I should say it…. It wasn't just the two of us who voted for him." Elliot and I stared at her until she continued. "… Anyone who can raise a hand on command is allowed to have a vote. That's when the Community deemed a baby became person. So, the two of you did what we told you to do… raise your hand."

We were given a few minutes to consider this. I couldn't speak initially- it was just too terrible in so many ways. I voted that monster into the Head of Community. And my family… they encouraged it. When I finally gathered my thoughts, I wasn't very pleasant.

"Well… congratulations on saving us and, instead, getting Sabrina and Chelsea and Nathan and Alisa and-."

My mother brought her hands down against the table in anguish. "We couldn't have known! How could we have?!"

Gramps, at least, was able to keep his emotions under control. "Regis did do as he promised. The economy here picked up, too. Unfortunately, in place of quota troubles, Regis… I hate to say it, acted as dictator. A friend of Martin accused Regis of trying to bribe him in the election. When Regis won, both he and Martin were given the Departure before they could continue cheeping. Why, that could have been us! And then there was the mining accident… I'm sure you know the rest, children. Part of me still believed that we could pull it off… part of me still does. And we were so afraid. We couldn't have removed Regis on our own. Please… don't turn against your own family."

I wanted to be mad, but there was such sincerity in the way Gramps spoke, and mother's grief was very real. I… shed a tear right alongside of them. As I fought my emotions, I left my chair and gave Mom a long hug. Something about the Community ending made me willing to forgive. We had all made mistakes. This wasn't time for retribution- it was time for forgiveness.

"I love you, Mom. I really do. It's just… just…" Gramps laid a hand on each of our heads, and I was even compassionate enough to not kick Elliot away when he wanted to join the embrace. It didn't last long, and was kind of strange, but it offered some form of release. Finally, though, Gramps removed his hands and helped us stand up. I knew he would tell us to go to bed, so I tried to force in one last question.

"Gramps... I've asked before, but I've never gotten a good answer. Why have we never had a doctor on the Islands? Is it just because none have ever wanted to join the Community?"

Old Taro squinted as he thought, sort of like he was having to think really hard to remember what he was looking for. "I believe it actually goes back to when we first formed the Community. We thought a professional doctor would bring in too much of a scientific influence on the Community, which would kill the spirit of open thinking. It's not that we wouldn't allow one to, I don't think, it's just that we never went recruiting for one. We thought family care would be enough." Once again, it wasn't a satisfying answer, but Gramps finished up before we could ask another question.

"You will all need at least a little energy tomorrow. No more talking for anyone- its bedtime."

I did indeed go to my room after dumping water on the fire, but I knew I wouldn't sleep when I saw that the sky was already beginning to lighten. Dawn had come.

Once I was sure that Elliot was asleep, I sneaked out of the room yet again so I could look through the window in our living room, which allowed us to see most of the sunrise despite a couple of buildings blocking some of the view. By looking at the pane, I was able to catch a muddled reflection of myself. I ran a hand through my hair, thinking about what its true color was. Without the constant coloring, it was only a matter of time before I would find out. I hadn't thought of it before, but the Mainlanders were probably making fun of it, much like Chelsea had.

At that moment, the sun was just peeking out over the ocean, bringing with it new life. The sunrise was no different than any before it, yet it somehow felt new. It no longer represented the continued circle of life, but the dawn of a new adventure. I've never been one to like change. I knew, though, that many things would be different before that sun had even hit the pinnacle of its arc in the sky.

Such thoughts were provoking, but it was inevitable that I would bore after a while. Once the novelty was gone, I lumbered back to bed. Despite my earlier doubts, I slowly lulled away into a long-sought rest.

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**Author's Notes:** Suicide is something I rather avoid, but it seemed to be the logical end to something like this. I hope no one found it too distressing- I don't think it is, as it isn't really angsty or anything. I apologize if I offended anyone. But hold up- I've also included an epilogue to tie up some of (maybe not all) the loose ends.


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Several years have passed since that last day of the old order. Despite all the suffering that occurred on the Sunshine Islands, I've never left my one and only home. I occasionally have to make trips to the Mainland, but I try to limit these expeditions as they usually end up with me getting confused about some gadget they have there and me saying something stupid.

Things have certainly changed on the Islands. We are now fully affiliated with the Mainland once again, and the entire system of quotas has ended. In many ways, this is a good thing, though we had an unpleasant welcome to a terrible thing called tax. Oh, how we all hate taxes. But don't get me wrong- I'm not asking for the Community economy again.

Not only has our way of life changed. Gramps passed away last year. It's sad, but he had lived a rather full life. I was glad to see that, before the end, he finally admitted that we were better off without the Community.

Denny and Pierre had to move to the Mainland not long after the conclusion of my earlier writings. Apparently some of their affairs, supposedly involving Lanna, have landed them with some unsavory diseases which require professional treatment. At first, I was glad to see them go. But, I've warmed up to them since then. I never really had a problem with Denny… and then there's Pierre. I had said that when the Community collapsed that it should be a time of forgiveness. For some reason I didn't completely apply that to him until he started sending me letters from the Mainland. Even now, across our watery divide, he is still loyal to me. I've kept communication with him since. Apparently they're supposed to be able to return to the Islands soon. I guess they have gotten their share of justice.

Vaughn, on the other hand, returned to the Islands a couple of days after he was shot. Many of the women who have moved onto the Islands think he's cute for some reason, but he doesn't care for the attention. Thank goodness no one confuses me for being charming when I'm angry, which must be the case with Vaughn since he's always grumpy.

Lily has often talked about leaving the Islands, with her mission complete, to go on another adventure. She did for a brief while, but she returned just over a year later. Everyone has to settle down at some point, and there really is something charming about the Islands. I often disagreed with her back in the day, but we share that common bond of experience. Along with Vaughn, the three of us will often talk and do other things together.

My brother Elliot married Julia somewhere around three years ago, and they now have a small baby boy. He's even more scared of me as his father is. A few other youthful people have moved into the Islands as well.

I can't say I've achieved the happiness of my brother. I guess I thought that when we brought down the system, everything would eventually sort itself out. That wasn't my turn of fate, though. I can remember the day Mark returned to the Mainland with vivid memory. I wanted to tell him how much he means to me, but all I could choke out was a painful wave goodbye. I didn't love Mark, but he was the only person I could ever see myself with. I've gotten a few letters from him since then. He's still single, but I feel that every day that passes makes any possible relationship between us all the less likely.

I'd still be considered young by most dictionaries, but I feel as if I've aged much earlier and much quicker than I should have. At first, I was angry. I was angry at a lot of people that I had lost so much of my life for the sake of the Community. Everything I had done for the first twenty years of my life went towards nothing. But I couldn't find any one person to direct my revenge at. It is true that people like Will, Regis, Kirk, and Nathan helped create the way life was, but they only built off beliefs they had learned from others. Everyone had played their part in building up this intangible monstrosity that no one person could stop.

One might ask if what I helped do was worth it. My situation in life isn't that visibly different. All I did was help a lot of people die. However, I can honestly say that I would do it all over again. No, I'm not rich or happy or famous. Sure, I got attention from the media for a few weeks. They were fascinated with me in particular- the girl from the Community who helped the government agents. They didn't even have my name on any records before that- I had been nonexistant in the eyes of the Mainland. It didn't take long, though, before the cameras found some other story to follow. Things settled back into normalcy. But for the first time in my life, I feel satisfied. I don't live in a state of fear and ignorance. For the first time, I actually know who I am.

Regis would say that education would stifle individuality. I say just the opposite. As a child, I had no idea of the possibilities that lied out there for me. One can't dream of colorful worlds if they've lived in pitch dark for their whole life. Of course, if humanity innately understood all aspects the world, Regis would have the right idea. But there are many mysteries for us to solve. Having no formal education (Mom did teach me how to read and write) just allowed those in charge to do whatever they want without their subjects even comprehending it.

The individual never existed under Regis's reign. All that mattered was the Community. No wonder everyone was so twisted. The Community didn't work; it couldn't work. In a perfect world, life would probably more closely resemble the old Community than the life that we now live. In case you haven't noticed, though, we aren't living in a perfect world. Humanity is not glorious, so there is little point in worshipping it. Mark once told me that man's first thoughts will direct him to do nothing more than pleasing himself. I don't think he was too far off the truth.

Will understood this. However, he decided that if the human condition was prideful, there was no point in resisting. After all, the human is currently the highest being on the evolutionary chain. I suspect Will, somewhere deep beneath the surface, knew he was wrong. In opposition to our first impulse, there is something in all of us that knows life is more than self-indulgence. It tells us to make a better world, to dream. It tells us to strive for something greater, even though we will may never reach it in this life. Life itself is not ultimately satisfying- it's fleeting. I don't think the worst Regis or the worst Will lying on his deathbed would deny this. I'm not an expert, but I feel that something inside of me tells me that if I do what I can to follow that perfect standard of living, even though no man can reach it, I can discover that part of me that has always been missing- that piece which somehow lies beyond this world.

In this, I take comfort. The satisfaction that I know I have is from this principle, even though I don't completely understand it. In my childhood, I would never have been able to accept something beyond me. But I've learned from experience that the best things are often those that lie behind the reach of humans.

I know that I'm not the only one undergoing this process. The Community forced the standard of human nature on us. And so it was this human nature, not nearly as fine as it was presented, that we adopted. Corruption riddled our leaders. Our workers manipulated the quota system. People did things solely for self-elevation.

Now, though, people I once disliked are changing. People like Gannon, Nick, and Haila work harder than ever before. People like Eliza are far more tolerable. All it took was telling them that the world wasn't perfect. When I think of that, I wonder how things could have been so different. Perhaps Pierre and I would be married right now. Maybe Regis wouldn't have allowed Will to manipulate him so.

Will. I heard from one of Mark's letters that he has been the perfect inmate. He's in the pen for life, yet he always obeys orders, never gets involved in fights, and tries to be as helpful as possible. I was initially surprised, but it occurred to me that he was simply trying to get a commutation. Even in prison, he fights for nothing more than himself. There, his methods have fine results. But a society of people who think the way Will does can never be a free world. Will, along with many others I've met since my last writings, think they know all there is worth knowing, and have found nothing meaningful to it.

Yet I have. It is by that seemingly illogical moral guidance inside of us that society is strung together. We often try to fight against it when it doesn't tell us what we want, but we know it is still there. Either that compass or whatever method it got there by is the only thing I've ever found that truly makes this world a better place.

Perhaps I sound I little too philosophical. Yes, I definitely do. But I assure you that everything I say comes from my own personal experiences. It is up to you to consider what I have said and judge it. Maybe I'm right; maybe I'm wrong. As Will would put it, "To each his own."

**The End**

* * *

**Author's Notes: **It's been a long journey, but it's been a good one. Thanks to all readers and a special thanks to all reviewers and future reviewers! If you really liked this, then don't worry- I have a few more story ideas I'm working with. I know this could be a story that could provoke quite the discussion, but I am unfortunately leaving the country for two and a half weeks tomorrow, so I'll have to answer any PMs when I get back. I really tried to get this in before I left so you wouldn't have to wait so long. As always, please alert me to any mistakes or future things to work on. Though it's sad to finally put down the pen... err... keyboard, I'll echo the words of Pit- "I'm finished!"


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